joining the nations(darknessembraced & DK)

"Son...I am sorry to do this to you. But you must marry and bear child with high princess Frig, her son will be next to the throne. He will carry our kingdom out of obscurity and let it thrive!" King O'dinn pointed out of his huge throne room sadly.
The window beyond framed the squalor that gripped his lands.
A sad growl rose from the elderly king's throat.
"Do what is right for your people my son...please!" The proud man was very close to begging.
Castiel looked at his father, sorrow wrinkled his face as he tried to speak.
"Very well...what are their terms?"
The king pulled out a piece of parchment and began to read it's message very slowly.
"The proof of worthiness to marry the high princess shall be: the head of the orc chief Ra'sel."
The words brought a frightening silence to the grand room.
The prince was white as a ghost. They seriously wanted him to kill that monster?

In a small city, a dark haired elf sat in silence while listening to dignitaries speak about the threat of an orc chief. Tari frowned slightly while she looked at the map that sat on the table in the middle of the room. Just recently their people suffered an attack by a band of orcs. Something needed to be done and that was why she was called there. While she wasn't exactly part of the city of elves, she was often called upon when problems like this arose. "The only solution would be to take out the cheif. But who could do it?" the chief of the elves asked and several looked at her and she shook her head. "I don't think so. I don't take on orc chiefs." she said. She moved over to the window and looked out with a small frown, her hand resting on a knife that she kept hidden at her side.

(Hope this is okay. Wasn't sure how else to start.)

(It's great! Don't worry, even if we are taking a smutty angle to this story, plot and background is important.)

Castiel cringed at what he would have to do to secure this orc head.
There were many kinds of orc in the world, most were intelligent, peaceful beings, skilled at many crafts and arts, some even rivalled the elves refinement. Many seaside kingdoms had strong trade agreements with the blue and green orcs across the sea, one might even have the good fortune of meeting one tending ship in port.
The red orcs native to the continent of Arka-known as oni, however, were savage, twisted beasts that excelled only at war and rape.
Many border villages subsisted on being havens for Oni slayers, their inhabitants adorned with ribs and tusks of the fallen demons.
The orc soldiers were certainly defeatable, their masters were another story. The chiefs were were born only one in ten thousand, their bodies covered in muscle and stoney scales from birth. They had the strength of thirty men and the smarts of one hundred orc underlings.
There was a reason that no human had slain one in over five generations.

Yet the high royalty wanted wanted a chief's head.

Castiel looked at his father sadly, his usually kind, calm features contorted with resignation. "Very well...father." he said in a short breath.
"My son, I have brought a craftsman from the coastal realm of Oz to forge a weapon for you. His skill is like no other, his work has felled many Oni..." the king tried to reassure his son feebly.
"I'll need more than an exotic firearm to kill a chief. I'll find a mechanic to make some armour in the morning. " he said, the brave face he sought escaped him thoroughly.

(Okay.)

Tari sighed as she closed her eyes and bowed her head. "We need to add more soldiers to the boarders." she said to the dignitaries behind her. "I'll go out to where the worst of the attacks are taking place and help while you work on getting more soldiers ready to fight." She turned and squared her shoulders with a sigh while looking at them with a small frown. "However I have to see someone before going out to join the ther." Tari picked up her cloak that was draped over the back of a chair. "I will send word about how things look on the boarder." Without another word, she turned and left the large chamber, leaving the group of male elves in silece.

She left the building without a backwards glance. Tari hated meeting with the leaders of her people and she hated being anywhere near the building that housed the leaders of her people. Her father had been a dignitary while her mother a noble. While her life had been 'privlaged' she haded politics, Tari had often found herself alone because of how busy her parents had been so when they had died in an orc attack, instead of going into politics like her father or taking on the role as a lady like her mother, she became a fighter. She began training to fight and she removed herself from most of the society, choosing to live at the edge of the community alone. In time she became the best fighter in the small city.

The streets were full of people, most were thin and desperately seeking food as they trawled the muddy streets. The whole kingdom had been left behind by the world, the technology and wealth that revitalized their neighbors passed them by shunned by an extinct church.
As the prince walked through the congested alleys and scant markets, his duty gripped him powerfully. The faces all seemed to stare at him, judge him unforgivingly. Castiel looked no different from any of the other people drifting in the oppressive city walls, his clothes were just as tattered, his shoes just as worn. No one would have known he was one of the lesser royalty, were it not for his proud strides.

'I must find some powered armor...there is no other way to combat such a beast...' the prince reflected desperately.
Armor had long been used as a defensive measure, it was only common sense. Only with the advent of steam and electric charge was offensive armor possible, however it was very rare to find anyone with the skill required to produce one of any worth.
Most were white orcs or were far to the north, in the snow crusted wilds where such things were needed.

However, towns bordering the Oni frontier were known to have some mechanics, when the need arose.
That would be the first place to look.

He slowly made his way to the small inn where his father told him the weapons master was staying.
Castiel sat down at the humble bar, eying the patrons carefully.
"Ey! What are ya buyin'?" The elderly barkeep asked with a friendly smile.
"A pitcher of Mead please." The blond prince asked humbly.
"Trying to drown your sorrows, stranger?" The white haired man asked as he presented a frosty pitcher.
"No...not yet. I'm supposed to be meeting a weapons master here..."
Grey eyebrows rose.
"You mean the ashy white fella? Marian! Bring Torvald down!" The old man hollered more loudly than should have been possible for a person his age.

Unlike the kingdom that her city neighbored, the elven city that Tari lived in and protected with her life had prospered. Her people were well known for their weapons, jewelry and clothing. While their weapons weren't like the orcs in any way, they were special in their own way. Each piece was different from the next and they were all made for the user, each one custom made to fit the fighter using it. It was mostly the elves that used the weapons, but there was the occasional buyer from other places. But because of the elegance of the elves clothing and jewelry, they were often called upon to have things made.

As she made her way through her city, she looked at all the people that roamed the bustling streets with a guarded look in her eyes. Many of the people in the inner city didn't realize that there was a fight going on at the boarders of the city. Shaking her head slightly, she sighed as she moved to the outer parts of the city and she slipped into a small worn down shop and she looked around at the weapons with a small smile. "Tathar!" she called into the slightly smokey smithey.

A moment later an elf appeared through another doorway and grinned at her. "Ah, Lady Tari." he said and she shot him a look which made him chuckle before she sighed. "I'm in need of your services." she told him before removing a scabbard from her waist and she placed it upon one of the tables as he approached. "It was broken in my last fight. I need it fixed." she told him as he drew the broken blade from the scabbard then tipped it, letting the other shards slip out of it. "It's shattered Tari." he said and she closed her eyes with another sigh. "I know that Tathar. Can you fix it?" she asked and he shook his head while examining the pieces. "I can try but it wouldn't be anywhere near as strong as it had been. But... I could use the pieces and craft a new one for you." The dark haired elf looked at him, her piercing gaze looking deep into his eyes before she nodded. "Very well. I will be back later in the week for it then. I'll use an older weapon in the mean time. And for your work." She pulled a pouch of money from her belt and gave it to him before offering a small smile and leaving the smithey just as silently as she came.

Castiel's ears rang with the old man's howling, as the rumble of approaching footsteps already shook the bar.
The rumbles grew louder with each second. The prince was sure he was to meet with a friendly orc, he knew of no human who could produce such a cacophony with only his feet.
A moment later a towering figure emerged from the staircase, his skin was white like ash. The smiths face was slowly revealed with each step, a hush had drawn across the usually boisterous bar.
"Why aren't you drinking?!" The snow orc growled." Everyone's next round is on me! Drink, make merry, don't mind me!" He boomed as the room resumed it's normal way.
The imposing, tusked man sat down next to Castiel. "Greeting, prince." He growled quietly and respectfully.

Castiel gave the metalworker the details of his situation as they sipped on their Mead. Torvald looked very thoughtful for a moment, long fingers stroked his razor like tusks. "Hmmm...I may be able to help you...but you will need much more than my guns to defeat him." He said sagely as he wrote down several notes on some parchment.
The prince stifled his irritation and opened his mouth to speak.
He didn't get a chance to make a single sound when the jovial orc spoke again.
"However, I'm sure you have already realized that.....go to Icetide, I have a friend who is a mechanic there. He is fantastically skilled, I have been saved by his work many times."he almost purred.
Castiel eyes flashed with excitement at the thought of trekking into the frozen north.
"Will you have my weapons ready for me when I return?" The prince asked cautiously. Torvald smiled broadly.
"I shall accompany you, it has been quite a while since I've been home. This is a perfect chance to see my family. Besides, I must work with him to ensure a good fit all around. "
Whether he liked it or not, the noble man had a traveling partner.

After leaving her blade with her old friend, she stepped out of the smithey and she looked around with a frown. It felt strange to be without the blade. However, now she had to do one thing she loathed to do. Return to her family home. While she had taken up residence on the edge of the city, she kept her family home near the center of the city and that was where she kept most of her good weapons. With a sigh, she turned and head back into the city. She glanced at some of the other elves and the other beings that lived in the city. It didn't take her long t get to the home. She looked up at the multicolored glass of the house's windws and she paused while gazing up at it.

She could remember looking out of those windows as a little girl and wondering if she would marry a handsome lord and duke. It's been many years since then and she frowned at the thought before walking up to the house and she opened the door, entering her home with a sigh. The elf was silent as she walked up the steps that let upstairs. She entered a small room and looked through the different weapons that littered the tables and shelves. While she had skills with all sorts of weapons, she specialized in blades and she prefered them over guns, though she did actually carry a small gun once in a while. Looking over the different items, she grabbed a set of blades and attached them to her hips before grabbing one of her small guns and slipping on its holster. With a sigh, she looked arund and nodded to herself before leaving again.

With her weapons on her person, she decided it was time to head out to check on the city's boarders and see what the damage was at the moment. She hoped that it wasn't bad. She also hoped that the threat that's been terrorizing her people would be taken care of soon. The woman was still irritated that the council thought that she was the perfect person t face that orc chief. The thought made her scoff with a shake of her head. "They're nuts." she grumbled. Not only was she a woman but she didn't have weapons strong enough to kill an orc chief and if she went in to face him and lost, who knew what could happen to her. The thought made her shudder and shake her head as she jogged down the path that lead out of the city.

A traveling partner...how comforting. Castiel was more than happy to have someone to help him brave the frozen north, but the eyes that his companion, Torvald, drew were disconcerting. The area was still very backwards, the church may have died but it's paranoid ideals still lingered in the people's minds-- despite the intervening hundred years.
Hushed whispers followed the pair like a ghost as they made their way north.

After many arduous days of travel, the days grew colder and colder until their very breaths fell to their feet like snow.
Castiel stood in shock as he watched the air freeze before his eyes.
His hot blooded companion took note of his wonder and let out a mighty breath before speaking. "It is said, that snow is the breath of the God's and so every flake of ice is a soul. Thus, our breath freezes because we live and have the spark of our creators inside."
Castiel looked at the orc thoughtfully, huffing with the exertion of climbing the snowy hills.
"Does that mean that our breath also produces souls?" He asked, curiosity glimmering in his eyes.
"Not precisely, our breath gives life to those animals who pledge loyalty to us. Our brahmen, hunting wolves, and war hawks are our responsibility, so we give them life. Wild beasts are the domain of the God's."
His argument certainly sounded more reasonable than the alternative that the extinct church offered. A God bent on human suffering as a way to purification, wrath and punishment for those who were called heretics and priests who were above all other men.
A spark of creation in all things...how novel.

The journey became quite miserable for the prince as they plowed deeper into what looked like a frozen wasteland. He was unaccustomed to the ice hanging from his body, turning his sweat to brittle glaze upon his skin, stabbing his lungs at every breath.
Torvald was left to apologize constantly, despite castiel's repeated words of gratitude.
"If my people had not shunned yours, there might have been a train or at least a trade lane to Icetide." The prince wheezed at one fireside dinner.
A point to which the orc could only grudgingly agree.
"I still wish that there was the money in your royal vault for you to experience the trains my people have built."

After many weeks of blizzard like weather and ice filled shoes, the pair finally came to a seemingly bottomless canyon.
"What are we to do now?" The rather beleaguered looking prince shuddered as he looked out into the foggy distance.
His travel companion looked to the sky for a moment, wrote out a short note on a piece of lambskin then turned to look at his shivering friend.
"Tomorrow at noon a way forward will reveal itself." The rather friendly orc said, obviously enjoying the melodramatic turn of phrase.

The next day met Castiel with blinding sunlight, just like every other day,yet the air felt electric-- charged with what could only be explained as magic.
Torvald poked his white head into the small tent, a huge toothy grin plastered to his face.
"Come, come! Learn why my home is called ice tide!" He said sounding like an excited child with an all too deep voice.
In an instant, the prince was dressed in his heavy furs and wading through the snow excitedly.
"Look...." the snow white giant growled proudly.
The infinitely deep gash in the earth began to rumble, a deep, low roar rose from the crack. The thunder was followed by a gigantic plume of steam and brittle crashing. Huge sheets of ice seemed to grow from the walls and caused the maw to close with shocking quickness, the ice seemed to flow into the canyon like water.
Steam continued to bellow out of the rapidly shrinking channel till the ice sang from it's speed and pressure.
Castiel stood, slack jawed with awe. He had never seen such a thing in his life!
"A great geyser sits in the mountain many leagues from here, a series of caves houses a vast amount of melted water from the snowpack. Many many centuries ago our tribe carved a network of narrow tunnels from here to the geyser, made it so that only the ultra heated high pressure steam would be able to arrive in the Canyon and fill it with this ice." The towering orc beamed with overwhelming pride as he explained the marvel his people had made.
"The ultimate moat. No army has ever crossed it, we can control the speed the ice melts at by allowing more steam to pervade the base of the ice bridge. By tonight, it will be gone."

It took the pair barely an hour to cross the ice bridge where they were promptly greeted by a small group of orcs armed with huge wineskins full of heavily seasoned elk broth.
The eldest of them, bearing a long, coarse beard, began to speak.
"Welcome back Torvald! Your kin is waiting for you behind the gates."
Castiel looked around with a deeply confused look on his face.
Torval, meanwhile, took a long drink from the wineskin and pointed vaguely into the oppressive mist that surrounded them.
"The city walls are hidden by the fog, it takes a special compass to find the gates." The bearded orc rumbled with a friendly smile.
"Come with us, please." He continued, pointing in a direction and ushered them forward.

Their guides took them on a very short walk, the fog seemed to part like a veil to reveal soaring steel walls that seemed to stretch far into clouds, gleaming impossibly given the wall of mist.
An unseen gate opened wide, welcoming the group into it's heart.

"Please excuse me, good prince. It has been many moon's since I have seen my loved ones, I would like to catch up with them. We will meet the mechanic tomorrow. My friend, S'trou- the one with the beard- will take you to a good inn for the night." The metalsmith said respectfully, then departed quickly.

For the second time that day, Castiel's jaw was slack with awe as S'trou led him through the vertigo inducing city.

Huge spires full of people and their lives touched the sky, the streets bustled with life. The prince looked round and prayed that his home would be able to look like that some day. He knew he had to take the head of Ra'sel if his subjects had any chance at a decent existence.

The next day, Torvald practically burst into Castiel's room and hauled him into a small work shop a short distance away.
The claustrophobic shop was filled with circuit boards, all kinds of mechanical components, armor and strange glowing threads.
"You must be the prince.....sit in that chair over there." A grumpy old orc rumbled from behind a pile of armor sheets. His long white arm poked out and pointed to what looked like an archaic torture device.
Castiel gingerly reclined into the dingy looking saddle and waited patiently.

Many hours of harsh grinding, small fires and ripping metal later, the still very imposing mechanic emerged from his work shop.
"Brace yourself human."

The next weeks were filled with uncomfortable probing,scanning, measuring, and surgeries.

"You have the sparks of mana in you human, not the fire like an elf or an orc, but it is unusual none the less. I won't have to use muscular parsers because of it. Lucky you."
Castiel was visibly confused by the jargon that landed in his ears.
"Pardon me?"
The mechanic rolled his large yellow eyes comically.
"Mana is what magic runs on, but unlike the fictional majic of fairy tails, it is a scientific discipline as well. Mana is the energy that complements nervous impulses, only instead of controlling muscular contraction or other body functions, mana allows skilled users to manipulate energy. Humans used to have mana streams in them until your backwards priests decided that mana was the mark of the "devil".
Why does any of this matter? You may ask. My armors are controlled by mana flow impulses. Since humans don't have mana in them much any more, parsers were developed that measure muscle responses and predict how to make the suit move. The cost is long latency, hundreds of milliseconds sometimes."
Castiels eyes glazed over as he took the information in.
So that meant that one of his ancestors was a Mage...
"All I have to do is place some contacts to your spine and the mana will do the rest. I've already placed the contacts actually..."
He already...
There was nothing that could be done about it now, and it would have happened anyway.
"It would have been nice if you had asked..." he said, feeling for the contacts idly.
"And you would have said yes please Mister orc, so I saved us both the trouble and did it. The contacts are beneath your skin, they only amplify what's there, mana is not electrical in nature, it's radiant so direct contact is not required."
The old workman had a helpful smile on his face that castiel simply didn't want to stomp on so he simply smiled back and gave the towering orc a thankful hand shake.
"We aren't done yet prince, I still have to build the thing! Shouldn't take too long though, two weeks, I still have some human sized frames left so I'll just adjust 'em to your body. See you then. Torvald and I have a great deal of work to do."
The white giant hurried his client out with a good natured shove and slammed his door.

After two weeks of wonder struck sight seeing in the miraculous city, the armor was finally finished and ready for the final fitting.

Three weeks. Three long, grueling weeks Tari was stuck out on the boarders fighting the orcs. Most of her time out there she was fighting or escorting the wounded back to the camp that the elves had set up. It seemed that for every one orc that was cut down, two more would appear and it kept like that for three weeks before there was finally a lull in the activity. Taking that moment of peace to get away from the scent of orc blood and the sceens of battle, Tari took a long walk along a river.

While she walked, she thought about the attacks. It seemed strange to her. Normally orcs wore a symbol or colors of their clan or the person that they followed. Yet the orcs that have been attacking the city had neither. It confused her quite a bit. The she-elf moved to the edge of the water and sat down on a fallen log with a sigh. She was frustrated at her city. It had taken them over a week to send out re-enforcements to aid them and in that time many good fighters had lost their lives. As her thoughts of what had happened washed over her, in the privacy of that moment, Tari let her emotions take over and she allowed herself to mourn and weep for the fallen.

Meanwhile, near the whereabouts of orc chief Ra'sel, a silver haired she-elf stalked the shadows. It wasn't the first time she'd snuck in and it certainly wouldn't be the last. She slipped past the guards with ease and made her way towards the chambers where she knew she'd be able to find her old friend and ally. Vanya had become a rogue early in her long life because she didn't believe in fighting meaningless battles and so she joined a group of rogues that traveled the lands fighting for what was right. It was in that traveling that she'd met Chief Ra'sel. She'd become fast allies with him and over that time, she'd come to care for him. However, how deep those feelings for him went remained hidden from everyone. Even Ra'sel.

After entering the chamber, she remained in the shadows watching him, waiting for the chief to notice her. He always did manage to notice her first before his guards did.

(Sorry it took so long to reply. And I hope this is good. If not, let me know and I'll change it.)

(Not a problem hon, I asside from being patient- I never get mad if you take a while to reply because it would make me a hypocrite. Your post is fine, that's about the length it should be. The only complaint I have is that I think having a separation between the characters sections would be nice, but it isn't strictly needed.)
After a long week of awkward first steps and rigorous training, Castiel finally felt like he had something of a handle on his powered armor. Indeed, it was starting to feel like an extension of his body instead of merely a tool. The future that had been stolen from his people so long ago was finally in reach. All he had to do was was reach out and take it.
"So, boy. What do you think of his handiwork?" Torvald grinned cheerily as he fitted a large calibre chaingun to the frame of the armor with a metalic scrape.
The prince couldn't help but give a wicked smile as he envisioned the head of an Oni chief impaled upon his shoulder spike.
"It is far better than I could have imagined!"
The elderly orc emerged from a nearby shed, his arms full of strange glass panes.
"Glad you like it, fancypants..." he dumped the armload with a hollow crash."don't mind those...just a little experiment..."
As curious as he was, Castiel knew better than to poke his aristocraticly fine nose where it did not belong.
"Now, since you are gifted with some mana I can give you a very special gift." He pulled out a small shining orb."This is a mana driver, what it does is it multiplies your mana force exponentially and allows the armor to reach its fullest potential. Unfortunately, it generates a huge amount of heat in the process, so try not to burn youself to death." The chalk white orc quickly busied himself connecting the thing to the armor.
"Thanks...I'll be sure to do...that?" He said rather perplexed at the elders strange gesture.
Torvald gave a somber look as he interrupted the strange exchange.
"Prince, I am sad to say but you will have to leave here soon if you want to reach Ra'sel's territory before too many other prospective princes try take their part of him. It has already been too long."
The hand of the high princess was quite a prize indeed, and no doubt was being pursued by scores of men. He had to go, there was no more time. His people were suffering under the lack of progress. His marriage to the princess was the only way forward for them.
"I will set out at dawn." He said with great determination as he slowly unhooked himself from his armor.
###
Ra'sel was growing increasingly uneasy. There had been three more men to visit his village, looking for his head. All had arrived by themselves, none had chosen to observe the rituals of single combat. How very disapointing.
For all the bluster about civilization and culture, humans had no real honor or respect for death. It seemed that the disease had spread to his brothers too...
So many sister tribes raped and pillaged the border settlements, for no other reason than to gain money and women? That was not their way! War was a glory and a celebration of life! Not a means to conquest.
Had they truly forgotten the old ways so completely? Had they been so seduced by the human ways?

The Oni chief towered over most human men by a head, his skin was colored like blood and rust mixed. Its texture was like coarse gravel stuck to sandpaper and shone faintly against the roaring fire. Unlike their orc cousins oni did not have tusks, they had large,blunt horns that swept back behind them like a helmet.

He could smell his female ally the moment she entered his home, however he could not spare the moment to speak to her till he finished the purification ritual. He had been forced to kill yet another unprepared prince who thought he could kill a chief.

The leader stripped naked and doused himself in sweet smelling oil, his skin softened to a velvety smoothness as the oil trickled down his extremely lean form.
Slowly, a low, gutteral rumble rose from his chest as he began his prayer.
"Gods of life!" He began in his language,"I have another soul for you to shepard to the great afterlife! He has died bravely for his people, he has fought well for his people, he has lived well for his people. Please guide him to your side."
Th warriors skin hardened again, resuming its gravel like stony-ness as he lit his oil soaked body on fire. In a flash, the sweet smell engulfed the room as the flames flashed to life, then died as quickly as they rose leaving Ra'sel's body untouched.

"Vanya...what have you heard of the human kingdoms?" He asked without looking around.

It took Tari and the troops a while before they finally managed to win the long battle. Once no more orcs were alive, the small group of surviving elven warriors returned to the city. She could feel a wound that she'd received begging for attention but she had a job to do first. Tari walked through the city to the city where the dignitaries were and she entered without being announced and waiting for permission. Walking forward into the main hall, she dropped a piece of armor onto the large table before the leaders and squared her shoulders while holding her head high.
"What news do you bring Lady Tari?" one of them asked and she sent him a withering glare before speaking. "These orcs... are of no specific clan. They wear neither symbol nor color of their people. And while fighting, I saw several different species of orcs. As far as I could tell, they were all rogues from different places." The men all tittered in worry and looked back and forth between each other while speaking in hushed voices. "Lady Tari, is it possible that the clans are actually banding together to fight?" one of them asked and she scoffed.
"I highly doubt it. Unless you've forgotten the true ways of the orcs from your lessons, you should remember that fighting for women and monies is not their way. Luckily, I have not forgotten the lessons taught to me by my father and teachers." she said. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have wounds to take care of."
Turning, she left the hall and slowly walked through the city, stopping at the black smith for her repaired weapon before she returned to her home to rest and fix up her wounds.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Vanya hid in the shadows, watching the chief as he did the purification ritual. As he stripped naked, she blushed a little but didn't look away as he covered himself in sweet oil, watching his rough skin soften and for a moment she wondered what it might feel like. However, a moment later she shook her head, some of her silver-white hair falling in her eyes. She was silent as he prayed before shielding her eyes when he lit the oil on fire.
It wasn't the first time she'd seen the ritual, so it didn't bother her any more. When he finally spoke to her, she slowly stepped out of the shadows, her dark purple eyes flashed a little. She wore a pair of tight black leather pants and boots with a matching black leather vest over a grey shirt. The outfit wasn't her favorite thing to wear, but it helped her to blend in with her surroundings.
"One of the smaller kingdoms have sent out a prince for your head." she said gently, walking forward silently before dropping something on the floor near him. It was a piece of orc armor that was bare of any clan symbol or color. "From what I heard, he doesn't want to fight you but he's doing it for his people because his father wants him to marry the high princess in order to help their people out of poverty. However, there's something strange going on involving the high kingdom."
She slowly moved around the room and looked at different things before looking at the naked chief again. "In my travels, I've noticed that many of the smaller kingdoms have lost the heirs to their thrones and their kingdoms are weakened from the attacks from these unmarked orcs. It's the same with the elven cities. However, there is one kingdom that's not getting attacked and that's the high kingdom."

Late at night, the prince returned to the garage that housed his mechanical marvel, a small caravan of horses trailed behind him, loaded with supplies.
Near by the gate sat a steel cargo container with his name carved into it.

Castiel loaded the large steel crate with sacks of food, wine, medical supplies and camp makeing tools in preparation for his journy to Ra'sel's dominion. His nerves began to burn with anticipation and self-doubt. It had been well over a generation since an Oni chief had been slain, and he was sure that no one had faced this particular chief and lived. His reputation was legendary, the most prevelant of tales was how he single handedly killed a battalion of infanty and a squadron of calvalry during the seige of Holford. Everyone who was involved with that ruined city remembered how the broken bodies of soldiers littered the red soaked soil. Slivers of ripped flesh made fodder for the gore crows and worms weeks afterward, so complete was their destruction. Not one funeral was held, there were no recognizeable pieces of men left to honor.

The prospect of fighting such a monster truly scared the prince, even with the fearsome powered armor given to him by the snow orcs. He gazed at the gargantuan, by human standards, armor with wonder and gratitude. That metal body was the only thing that made it possible for his people to have hope..
The old armormaster appeared next to him, examining the look on the prince's face.
"I added riding pads to the frame to make the long trip more bearable for your soft human body." A well meaning and fond smile was affixed to the wrinkled orc's face as he rumbled.
Castiel's nerves calmed for a moment as he laughed with his benefactor.
He couldn't really tell why the laughter flew from his stomach, but it did.
"Don't go destroying my work. Or at the very least don't die. It would be a shame to see a human mana user die of incompetence." He pointed to a large sled with chains welded to it's thick frame.
"I built that so you could carry your food and camping stuffs with no need for a mule or horse." His eyes flicked to the very full crate. "Looks like you'll need it." With that, the bone white orc walked off into the city.

It was not long before Torvald made an appearance, smiling and laughing with a small entourage of his family members.
"Tonight is to be our last drink together, my friend. Let's finish this task with you."
Castiel was grateful for the help, with it, the last of the packing was finished quickly. The sled was secured to the imposing frame of armor and the group left the garage in high spirits.

The rest of the night passed in a blur of drinking and music, the task that loomed the next morning thoroughly forgotten.

That morning met the prince starkly, though he bore no hangover, the sun seemed too brilliant as it shone through the window. His goodbyes had been said the night before, so he simply downed his simple breakfast and trotted briskly to the hangar that housed the armor.

His long journey had finally begun.

###

"How very interesting...they kill themselves to defend the high ones. As if the are any more a God than they..." Ra'sel turned to look at his female ally carefully. Muscles rippled under his stony skin as he bent to examine the armor she delivered.
"This is not an orc's work...nor is it human, or elf..."deep lines formed in the granite like flesh of his forehead as he pondered the metals origin.
This was a most worrisome situation if vanya's sources where correct. The human kingdoms were being reshaped by forces unknown and the orc tribes were being corrupted that same intent.
"This human prince....he is on his way, yes?" He turned to vanya, his entire body revealed to her,his naked cock hung heavily between his thighs, only semi-flaccid under her eyes. Something smelled different about her, more like she was in...he did not have the word for it, not heat--but close.
That prince had what seemed to be a reasonable cause, not his own enrichment but his people's. His drive would be unlike the others that attempted to take his head.
Perhaps he could help vanya figure out the origin of the strange armor.
"When he gets within our territory, guide him here. I will speak with him." The chief said with perfect confidence.

Tari kept her head held high as she made her way back to her home despite the wounds that pained her and the exhaustion that wracked her body. Her teacher had taught her not to show weakness when tired and hurting, so that's what she did. Bottling up her pain and forcing back her tiredness until in the privacy of her own home. Upon reaching her home, she entered and locked the door behind her, her hands swiftly locking the numerous locks on her door before she sighed and moved deeper into the dark and somewhat dusty home she'd made for herself.

Upon entering her bedroom, she placed her newly repaired weapon down on the bed before beginning to undress, putting any of her other weapons on the bed as well before looking at herself in the mirror. Long gone was the soft, flawless body of a she-elf of the courts. Many years of training and battles had seen to that. Her fingers ghosted over a set of scars that ran along her side. Clearly claw marks from some beast. It had been a wound that would of killed a normal warrior. It had been one of the first orc skirmishes that she'd fought against. They had come with large beasts and she'd been cornered with one other elf who was injured. So she risked her life protecting him. During the fight she'd been badly injured and the soldiers she had trained with thought that she would die. Before that fight, they scorned her and looked down upon her. After all, fighting was not the place for a lady. But after risking her life and saving a fellow elf, she'd gained their respect.

Shaking her head, she sighed while turning her attention to the newer injuries and she began caring for them. The larger ones she cleaned with ease and closed up before just cleaning and putting salve onto the smaller cuts.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Vanya tilted her head slightly as Ra'sel spoke, an elegantly shaped eyebrow raising as she gazed back at him, her outer demeanor calm and collected though she was anything but on the inside while she watched him. "No, it's not. I would of recognized the work of my fellow elves, no matter where it came from." she said gently. There were many places that her people came from and there were many different types of elves. "These... rogue orcs have been focusing on the elven cities as of late. One of them have already fallen and the occupants have fled. The others are weakening.... But there is one that is still fighting strong. But for how long, I do not know."

As he asked about the prince, she opened her mouth to speak before pausing when he turned to face her completely and she felt her breath catch in her throat before she cleared it, her cheeks taking on a light pink tint. While this was far from the first time she'd seen him naked, this was the first time her body had reacted in such a way to seeing him completely bare. After a moment she spoke though there was a slightly thicker tone to her voice. "Yes, he is on his way here." she said. "From what I heard he is obtaining armor from another orc clan."

When she was told to guide the prince there, she raised eyebrow at the chief before nodding. "Of course. What should I tell him when I confront him?" she asked him. "That you wish to speak with him?"

The weeks passed quickly as the prince wound his way around the mountain passes and suffocatingly dense and humid valley forests that hid the oni chief and his lands from attack.
The lack of company slowly wore on Castiel as he trudged on, only the soft pneumatic hiss of the armor slithered into his ears and reminded him of his quest.

"I have seen no sign of massive troop movement, no camps nor tracks from their travel...to stage the kind of attacks that they have, I do not understand it..." he mused to himself, as he had grown acustomed, while he observed the shockingly beautiful,but completely barren badlands in which the oni made their kings keep.
The vast scape of frightening spires seemed to stab the sky with their vertiginous stone peaks.
These badlands were often called th dragons teeth, it had a way of eating men alive. If it were not claimed by the oni, the place would no doubt be the home to many bandits and vermin.

Finding the kings home looked impossible, the walls and cave made the entire land a labyrinth from which the prince feared he would not escape.
***
"This is precisely what you should say." The chief smiled, "if he is a reasonable being, then he should have no problem accepting your words. At the very least, he should be coward enough to take the reprieve when offered to him." The chief hoped deeply to have an ally in the prince, the oni people where being framed for the attacks fo some reason, and only a human would be able to ask the questions needed to find out why.
"Vanya. You should go now. Try to meet him in the out skirts of the dragons teeth, if you do not, he may be lost to our cause."
He took another long, deep breath and savored the smell of the elf womans desire.
Was it possible that she truly desired him?
Or was it simply the fleeting lust of familiarity?

(Hope you don't mind that I'll focus upon Vanya for a post or two.)

Vanya slowly nodded with a small smile before she stepped out of the shadows a little more, the light of the fire catching on her pale silver hair and making it glow like liquid gold for a brief moment. "Let us hope that he is indeed reasonable. Many of the past few humans to come here have not been." she told him. She'd met a couple of the last few challangers and they were all brash and foolish. As she was told to go and meet the prince in the outskirts of the dragons teeth, she nodded again. She knew all the passes of dragons teeth by heart. It had taken her many months to learn them but she did.

"Of course. I shall return here within three days time." she told him. With a slight bow, she seemed to melt into the shadows again and she disappeared, her gentle scent of her desire the only sign left behind that she'd even been there. There were reasons her clan of people were called shadow elves. While all elves walked lightly and with grace, her clan specialized in stealth and being able to pass through the shadows without being noticed.

With ease, the ellath slipped past the guards again and disappeared into the maze that was dragons teeth. Even though she was welcome among his people and the guards knew her well, Vanya prefered to come and go without being noticed by anyone but the chief.

While traveling through dragons teeth, she kept an eye open for the human prince and as she got closer to the outskirts, she caught the sound of armor long before she saw him and she smiled while shaking her head. Taking a deep breath, she flitted from shadow to shadow as she neared him before she spoke up. "You'll never find them." she said gently, her voice carrying to him. "And if you do, it'll only be by chance." As she spoke, she made sure to stick to the shadows so he couldn't see her and she waited for his response.

"A chance is all I need." He said smoothly, any trace of surprise hidden in his response. "The thing is...how would you know what I am looking for? Perhaps I seek asylum from the madness known as royalty." He questioned,hoping to take the watcher off guard as he scanned the shadows for her.
The pnumatics whined as he peered around carefully.
It only took him a moment to realize that he would find nothing. Who ever this was, she was too skilled with mana to be caught.
"So you are a shadow elf?" He announced, hoping she would hear him.
"You haven't tried to kill me yet, so I assume you have something to say beyond you taunts?"
This elf obviously knew how to find the oni chief, perhaps she might lead him there.
She was right about one thing, the dragons teeth seemed ready to devour him and Castiel was unwilling to waste anymore time searching.
###
Ra'sel sat back on his bed and contemplated deeply on the situation. This prince was driven by his people, not glory or greed. If Vanya could not persuade him to relent, the chief could easily imagine that it would be his end.

Another matter seemed to stick in his mind as well. The smell of desire and arousal from his ally. Such a pairing was unheard of, would she even be receptive to his affection?
Vanya was an extremely worthy mate and companion, there was no doubt of that. Any warior would be blessed to have an such a complete equal as his own.

Both dilemas boiled in the oni's mind as he pulled on his ceremonial robes and prepared to address his tribe.

Vanya chuckled softly when he spoke and she shook her head even though he couldn't see her. "I know what you're looking for because there's only one thing anyone looks for out here in the Dragons Teeth. So, unless you're trying to kill yourself, you're looking for the chief." There was a tinge of respect in her voice when she spoke of her ally. As he looked through the shadows for her, an amused look formed on her face and she looked the prince over. At his question of her being a shadow elf, Vanya softly laughed, the sound filling the air. "Yes, I am. So it's useless trying to find me." The elf brushed her hair back and tucked it behind her ear while she looked at him.

"I might have something to say." she said tauntingly. For a little while she was silent and it seemed like she might of left before she spoke again. "The Oni chief Ra'sel knows that you're coming and he's sent me to speak with you." she said finally. Slowly Vanya stepped out of the shadows, seeming to materialize right in front of him, the black leather and the silver fastenings of her clothing catching the sun.

"Chief Ra'sel wishes to speak with you." she told him. To most she was an imposing figure, the perfect example of a warrior of her people. "Too many have come through this way to challenge Ra'sel, only to attack him recklessly and they've all lost their lives. The chief is a very honorable oni and wishes to speak with you. He offers to let you rest from your long journey even if you won't take the time to speak with him." She moved a little closer to him, her violet eyes staring piercingly at him. "He sent me to show you the way to his tribe, either way."

The situation became stranger and stranger with every word the elf said. Was it possible that he was wrong about his quest? This chief seemed to have none of the qualities that others had sung so loudly of.
However, that particular oni could simply be very clever and have a trap waiting for him. The sheer number of posibilities were dizzying, and Castiel had to make a decision.
A long moment passed as he searched the elf womans eyes to try and find any hint of deception or ill intent.
Finding no inkling of treachery in her, the prince nodded slowly and sheathed his weapons.
"Very well, I shall accept his hospitality in the spirit it was given." He said carefully. "Lead the way."
He briefly looked at the spires of rock and wondered just where this unusual turn of events would lead. He could not recall one story where an oni chief allowed a would be assassin to live. He could not afford to wait on his nerves to catch up with him, though. What ever was waiting for him had to be overcome, for his peoples sake if nothing else.
---
The oni chief settled into his robes with a somber grimace, he was prepared for his people to turn against him-- his words would not be easy for them to hear.
He strode out of his granite carved home and into the temple of the mother, the place where he was born.
A large crowd had gathered upon the steps, looking toward the alter for his leadership.
"My people." He began, his gutteral barks echoed through the night, "as you have seen, many humans have come to assassinate me, to destroy our progress and drive us to war. They seek to crush us to their will and portray us as savages. But we must not rise to their petty desires, we must preserve who we are, and show them what a true tribe of warriors is!"
His passionate words were met with silence, uneasy and angry murmors rippled through the tribesmen and women.
One voice erupted from the crowd, just as loud as the chief's. "Why should we suffer their attacks and insults, when we have not stepped foot in their territory for a generation! We would only be defending ourselves! Did the gods not give us strength to destroy those who attack us?"
Those words brought the clamor of the whole gathering, the din was deafening, the rage and bloodlust was naked, the tribe wanted war.

Vanya stood there, her lithe body stiff and her eyes sharp for any sign of attack from him. But she was calm as she let him think over the chiefs request, staring into the prince's eyes, her violet ones showing that there was no lie or alternate motives behind her words. She finally relaxed a little when he nodded and sheathed his weapons. With a slight nod of her head, she removed her hand from the dagger that was hanging at her waist. "Very well." she said. Turning, she began leading the way through the maze of jagged rocks and valleys that made up the land.

As they traveled, Vanya was silent and fleet footed but she always looked back to make sure he was keeping up and didn't get lost. However, as they got closer to the tribes location, she could hear the sounds of the people that lived in the tribe and she knew that even she had to tread carefully when she arrived at the tribe.

While the chief welcomed her, Vanya knew that some of the others were uneasy about her presence within the tribe. When they reached the outskirts of the tribe, she paused and looked up at the gates then back at the prince. "Speak no words of hostility." she said softly, but loud enough to be heard over the tribe. "And make no move to attack." Her gaze was serious as she stared at the prince. With a slight nod, she turned and pushed open the gate with a soft grunt, having to strain a little before they opened and she led the way inside.

The armored knight decided that it would be better, and quieter, if he shed his war armor as well as his weapons. If the villagers were this enraged and unsettled, then having a human armed to the teeth in their midst was asking for trouble.
The angry din of the blood thirsty mob was disturbing on more than one level, even if the chief was reasonable--that crowd was certainly not. There was no way to tell if Ra'sel could hold back the tides of war or ensure his safety.
"Would it not be wise for the chief to meet me away from these unruly hordes? Both for my sake and his?" He asked as calmly as he could manage.
Unfortunately the calm in his voice sounded more arogant, given the contrast of the violent yells bellowed by the mob of oni.

Entering, she could see the tribe gathered near the center of the village and she swallowed softly while looking around a bit. The noisiness of the armor he was wearing irritated the shadow elf but she brushed it aside while she walked with him. She led him towards the group before pausing when she heard him speak and she turned to look at him. It did sound arrogant and the look on her face showed that's what she thought. She arched an eyebrow at him and placed a hand upon her hip while staring at the prince.

"If you avoided the tribe like that and didn't meet the chief in front of them, they'll think you're a coward and the tribe looks down upon cowards." she told him. She knew in a way it was hypocritical since she always slipped in and out of the village without the other oni's seeing or hearing her most of the time, but she preferred being able to come and go from the village without any problems with them.

After a bit, she sighed and looked forward at the crowd again. "Don't act like a coward. Act like the prince you are." she said firmly. Turning back around, she began walking forward again, holding her head high as she neared the crowd. When they noticed her, several of the onis glared slightly but they began parting for them to move through.

Though he knew nothing of Oni culture, the elf's words rang true and loudly in Castiel's ears. The din of blood lust seemed to take on a hushed fear amidst the anger.
"Chief Ra'sel, I wish to meet you as an equal and as a warrior." He yelled with an aggressive bark that silenced the crowd completely.

Inside, deep in his chest, the prince felt cold fear squeezing down on his lungs and stealing his breath from him.
"Will you give me that honor?"
The crowd answered his questions with venomous stares.
---
Ra'sel watched the scene unfold before him, pleased that his potential opponent had accepted his offer. The actual rituals of combat would take three days to complete, plenty of time to discuss the situation and possibly find an ally in that human royal.
"Very well. I shall have a cottage and a feast prepared in honor of the glory to come. In the intervening time, please let us speak as civilized beings."
Shock was clear on the prince's face, no doubt at his command of the human tongue.
"Vanya please,take my guest to my chambers and give him some wine till I am able to speak with him."
He had to deal with the one who so crudely defied his rule before any other matter could be attended to.

To Vanya, the silence was more deafening then the roars of the crowd as she stood off to the side from the prince, her dark purple eyes staring at the other oni's. As the prince yelled his challenge, she brushed her bangs back from her eyes before looking at the prince as the young man asked for the honor of meeting with the Chief as and equal and a warrior. She remained silent, feeling some of the stares upon herself. She knew that some of the oni's didn't like her very much, if at all, having even been threatened before as well.

When Ra'sel spoke, her gaze quickly switched to the Chief and she felt the corners of her mouth curl up just a little. Glancing at the prince again, she saw the shock on his face and chuckled lightly until her name was called and she looked up at the Chief once more. With a gentle smile, she nodded. "Of course Chief." she told him. "Right away." With a slight bow, she turned to the prince. "Come, his chambers are right this way."

After motioning for him to follow, she silently led the human away from the crowd towards the biggest structures in the village. "This is Chief Ra'sel's home." she said as she led the way inside. "You did well in showing him respect." She knew that he knew he was outnumbered in the village and she understood after years of being allies with the chief, that the oni's valued honor and respect. Once in the Chiefs chambers, she went about pouring some wine for the prince and she held out the glass to him, not bothering to pour herself any.

Castiel accepted the glass gratefully, a little awed at the ornate nature of the chiefs home. He had expected the oni chief to live in a thatched hut adorned with animal skins and weapons, not a small palace made of what looked like granite bricks and decorated with sculptures of women standing over their men. His ignorance of these people and their culture made his face turn pink with shame.
"So..." he tried to start, but he didn't know what to continue with. "This is far from the tales told by scholars." The prince began to realize the depth of the lies that had been told to him. The studied men had long said that Oni were savage people, interested only in rape, loot and conquest. They said that the Oni were savage, evil beings with a culture of blood and violence--of no redeeming value. The bold, strong artwork and strange sculptures that accented the palacial home was a clear contridiction to all those teachings.
---
Ra'sel stood tall and looked out at his people. "This human, a prince like all the others, has shown us respect and honor." He pointed to his keep. "There must be others, such as he. If we attempt to destroy the humans without first trying at peace, we will defile the glory of war as they have. Are you all so quick to spit on the bones of your mothers? So eager to join the humans in greed and rape? If that is your choice, then surely you can birth a son powerful enough to best me and take my throne. Or..." he eyed the one who spoke against him pointedly. "One has already been born?"
The red skinned Oni shrank under his Chiefs gaze, eyes averted, his face turned dark with shame.
"Very well then, prepare the celebration. The human and I will have a glorious fight, and I will have victory." He promised, knowing that the blood lust must be slaked if any progress could be made.
He turned his back and departed for his home.