Aphid was a crowded city in the forks of the Grasshopper river, in the country of Locust. Locust was a small country, but it was a country based on trade, so it was very prosperous. And, save for the occasional border dispute with Kinder (Locust absolutely owned the forest of Swarm, and would defend it as many times as need be.) It was a very peaceful place. That was because it was a prosperous nation, and could afford the best troops and mercenaries, who always went where the money was.

So it was no surprise that they had no trouble forming up companies for an expedition to the south. This was not the first company they had sent.. others had gone, and never come back, so this was only the bravest, or, more realistically, those who wouldn't have been sent in the first wave. It was mostly mercenaries, with just enough soldiers to keep order.

And that's the setting, now on to the actual action.

Chapter 1: Seemingly Unrelated Events

Corporal Kyrie was irritated as they made their first steps out of the city. In a company of 20 (10 fighters, 10 demis) almost half were mercenaries. And they were chattering away, like it was some party, and they wouldn't form ranks. He glared around the group as they marched. near the right side... a backpacked kid... he looked like trouble, and he wasn't the only one. The was a nondescript boy too, and a girl with a bow... and a guy with spiky hair and bristles. It was a mess, but as long as they didn't desert, he supposed. The spiky guy seemed to be calling the others over, he could see no good come of this.

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"Anyone in this for the money come by and chat a bit!" A young disheveled mercenary shouted at the crowd. He lived for this, for the excitement and adventure. It wasn't like he had a past to go home to. And he was down to his last Dragons (Silver) and he wasn't going to live a pauper, so there was nothing for it. He smiled at a young girl with a bow, and another young boy... he knew a thief when he saw one. "If you have a minute, let's pass the time." he called over to them.

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The demi-humans were all crammed into a wagon. Crammed like sardine cans. Rayne Montague looked around. Seemed a decent mix of elemental specialties. He himself was quite a wiz when it came to water spells... but that was mostly for fun. Of course, he was idiot enough to get himself conscripted, so what did it matter now? The people around him worried him, especially the pale man in the black robes. He didn't like the look of him at all. Even more surprising was the bald headed man. Rayne sucked in his breathe. "A telapath.." he whispered without even realizing it. He could sense one anywhere, after the trial... he looked at the man nervously, hoping he hadn't overheard.

Zephyr got as comfortable as he could in the cramped wagon, and takes a look around at those sharing this space with him. Looking at those around him, he wonders how many were really willing volunteers. Shrugging, he leans back, and closes his eyes, drifting off to sleep.

Frederick looks around. His companions look...like a ragtag group of people. At least this should mean a good assortment of skills. Meaning more of a chance to survive and get the money.

Vespera walked along silently, trying to catch snippets of the conversations around her. Nothing of real interest. She glanced at her companions warily, wishing she was a telepath - she'd been robbed often enough to worry about this group.

Belial sat cross-legged in the wagon, a pale finger tapping on the cap of his knee with a strangely audible click.

"Disgusting." He said, though his voice nor face showed nary any sort of anger or anguish. "To think that they'd have the gall to try and quell the Mother's voice." He stared intently at the walls of the wagon. "First they put us into jugs. Then they ravage us with their oxen-piulled plows. And now they stick me in here. Trying to harness my power.

"Disgusting."

The scaly light gray-skinned demi-human stood with her back propped up against a wall of the wagon's interior in a semi-relaxed stance. On her left side another of her kind with interesting wings was sleeping nearby and to her right side was another half-demon that she didn't know standing a few steps away from her so that they didn't touch. Working for the Council afforded her better treatment or at least more respect from both races but she still had to take the bumpy ride in the wagon with the rest of the group of ten. Another possible respect winner was the fact that she was rather tall by half-breed standards but the height issue was likely made less imposing by her overall lack of physical bulk.

Emygeil Skullguard kept her yellow-green eyes on the group while the hood of her coat/cloak shrouded the rest of her face in darkness. Most of her body was hidden behind the dark gray thing when she had it buttoned up, which she did at that moment. She was told to do her best to break up fights and mend the damage if her services were needed but not to get too worked up if the mercenaries got hurt, just to worry about the soldiers, but she didn't feel envious of either party if push came to shove. Either way her brand of healing would likely feel worse than the brawling.

Frederick takes off his backpack, opens it, takes out a jar full of sewage, and then puts the jar back in his backpack, closes the backpack, and puts it back on.

"Still got it." he mumbles to himself.

Omar sat and surveyed the wagon, his air almost that of an exiled King or a Lord stripped of his title, sorrow mixed with anger. The First Loss took everything from him, but it showed him his heritage and power. The Second Loss felt like being kicked to the ground while trying to get up. If what he learned on this trip could be of use, he needed to be careful. A Third Loss would be unacceptable.

He considered the demi-humans around him. Given the right circumstances, each might prove useful to him. While he considered how, he heard an unintelligible whisper from further in the wagon. Glancing around, he noticed a young man looking at him. Omar relaxed his expression and spoke in an amiable tone. "Helluva ride, huh?"

Belial stood, his shoulders pushing two of the demi-humans beside him away. He turned to the wagon's wall behind him and placed a hand on it. Staring intently at the ashen white appendage, he pressed against the wood. A sound of sizzlingand a smell of smoke...he removed his hand and observed the black imprint which he had left in the grain. It seemed to interest him more thanthe other passengers of the trolley.

Rayne laughed nervously at the telepath. "Yeah, it's--" but he couldn't finish his sentence as he saw the pasty guy put his hand to the walls of the wagon.

"What... what are you doing?" he asked, almost horrified, but wished he hadn't opened his mouth.

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"Calm it down in there, we need you fresh in case a fight starts!" The wagon's driver said. The driver herself was demi-human named Lhaso. Her specialty was shields, and she had been put in charge of the wagons to keep the other demi's at ease... and to protect the party if things got out of hand. It was a peaceful enough journey so far, so after making sure the other soldiers in the back were quiet, she eased up on the reins a little, to give the horses a break.

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The mercenary sidled up to the boy with the backpack. "Still got what? Your skills? Listen, I can't talk about it here in the open, but I may have an interesting task for someone who's looking to make some extra Dragons..."

"Sure."

"This is wood." Belial says without turning to look at Rayne. "It was manufactured by mortal hands into this supposedly stable state in a shop that received it by going into the nearby forests and slaughtering the trees within." He runs a finger diagonally across the ashy handprint on the wall, a line smearing across it like it was stricken through for being somehow incorrect. "It is perverse. It is twisted and disgusting. As far as I'm concerned, harming this wagon is no affront to nature as it would not even accept this monstrous mutant back into its family besides." His voice is level and calm, even though his words show irrational hatred for a vehicle.

Ves arched an eyebrow at this exchange and stepped closer. "Dragons, you say? I can guarantee you he's too tight-lipped to be of any use." she said, laying a hand on the boy's shoulder to make her presence better known. "A girl can always find some use for silver. Color me curious," she paused, discovering she'd not yet been introduced to the man.

"Just be careful, friend. If you were not then I could think of a few other families that could very well mistake the people gathered here for mutants, if their charred corpses were ever recovered." Emygeil spoke softly and levelly in her almost monotone stoic voice to the brooding Belial. She didn't expect the elemental to pay her much mind, after all, people willing to talk against the evils of wood with such fierceness probably felt that they had good reasons to burn it.

Her attention shifted away from the scene with the fire elemental at the words from the wise Lhaso. She could always respect a person with an inclination toward serenity even when confronted with the jostling hassle of driving around a small wooden box crammed with potentially hostile magic users. Staying calm was just what she planned to do and in keeping with her intentions the demi-human kept her semi-relaxed stance, crossed her arms across her chest, and resumed waiting and watching the others.

Zephyr snores loudly, and starts awake. Raising an eyebrow briefly at the burn mark on the wood, he shrugs, and shifts to a slightly more comfortable position, and attempts to resume sleeping.

They had set out too late. Kyrie could already tell. He sighed, and looked behind him. The city was out of sight, that was something, but it was just barely, they'd only been marching for a few hours. Well, he knew they were going to have to stop eventually, best to just do it now, there seemed to be some trouble with the demi-humans... getting them out in the open might help. He pointed to a nearby rise. and shouted at the Company "We'll make camp on the top of that hill."

They reached the hill and the wagons stopped, one with demihumans and the other full of plain tents. Kyrie liked to have a special tent, but with the number of people there was no point for the extra expense... at least that's what General Billius had said. he sighed and began to set up camp.

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The mercenary sighed and looked the woman over. She seemed... average... as far as her skills went, but she would do. The head of their party shouted something and soon after everything started grinding to a halt. The man smiled and extended a hand. "Kyle, and once you're all set up meet me by the fire and I'll tell you all about it." He walked by the other, backpacked kid, use of a bow would suit his needs much better.

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"Alright!" Lhaso shouted to the wagon. "Everyone out, time to fend for yourselves for a while.. what with the easy ride you've had, it should be easy!"

"Easy ride my ass," One of them said back to her. He was thin, and looked somewhat of a novice.

"Tell you what, tommorrow you can walk." She glared at him, and he relented easily. Spineless. What a great company we're carrying, she thought, Kyrie must be so pleased.

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The creature sniffed the air... humans... invading our territory. It slinked away from the approaching group, looking for it's own fellows.

"Hmph."

Belial walks through the crowd of demi-humans, shoving each one aside with a shoulder forward as he steps out of the wagon and onto the land.

Emygeil pushed off from the wall of the wagon gently and then righted herself into an attentive, stiff standing posture with her arms hanging at her sides. The half-demon had only just gotten turned around to exit the wagon from the back of the group when Belial shoved her aside. The healer stopped short of bashing into the wall and placed a hand against the wood to steady herself. After the group had filed out onto the hill the tall demi-human followed suit in a measured stride that suggested the same kind of stiffness as her posture.

Once she had come out into the open world again she inhaled a nice breath of fresh air and then released it in a discreet exhalation. The sky was darkening--They had set out later into the day and were paying for it she thought. But Emygeil wasn't in much of a rush and felt that going too fast would be foolhardy considering the questionable nature of the strange happenings in the southern provinces. The thought that there might not be anything of importance going on there at all crossed her mind more than once during the few hours of the wagon trip.

The sorcerer moved over to the wagon with the tents in it and did her part to set up her own tent. Most of the others of both races ignored her presence. Once her tent had been erected she walked toward the campfire and then sat down nearby, feeling sure that the lure of warmth would gather more of the group in due time.

Frederick sets up a tent for himself.

Choosing a spot somewhat away from the camp, Ves spent several minutes meticulously pitching a tent. She left her things inside, throwing a small piece of tarp that had come free from the tent weeks before over them. Not the best camouflage, but it was better than nothing. Satisfied with her camp, she turned and walked toward the fire.

She was surprised how few people were there. No sign yet of Kyle. Ves shrugged and sat on the ground, staring into the dancing flames. It wasn't like she had anything better to do than wait.