Disaster Strikes

[Desperanza]

Ohanzee

The storm had indeed taken its toll. The city was destroyed. Bodies were strewn here and there, tossed among the rubble of buildings, lining the streets and tossed into the shops that still stood. Windows were shattered, buildings ripped apart and items and belongings were strewn about, things that did not belong tossed among rubble and the sight of depression had escalated furiously. Those that were still alive, would be hard to find. The town seemed devoid of life. If one looked upon the broken scene, there was nothing to be found that stirred. Nothing that moved or breathed and yet beneath the rubble or perhaps not even in the town any longer at all remained the survivors. Those that had been caught in the storm had no doubt been carried away, or buried beneath the falling buildings. There was no life here, not that there had ever been much of it. There was no longer any form of a town. The village inn was in shambles. The stable was pulled to the ground and the scraggly horses that bad been inside were missing. The butcher was dead, strewn upon the dirt floor amongst the rubble of the butcher shop. The three main buildings of Ohanzee were in tatters. The only thing that seemed to have survived the storm, was the castle.

Of course, that wicked being, the King. He would no doubt be tucked away behind the stony walls of his castle tucked out of the storm while the broken town suffered. The King would have survived while he knew nothing as to whether he even had a kingdom to rule over any longer. The storm had hit Murate hard and against the horizon stood the castle while beyond stood the shambles of what remained. Vultures circled above while others remained on the ground, picking at the decaying bodies of members of Ohanzee, now just a part of the statistics. Crows cawed from the highest points of the rubble where they eyed with beady eyes the destruction before themselves. Grey clouds circled above, threatening rain. The few tiny embers remained at the inn where the tavern had caught fire and yet did not spread much for the winds and the rain had kept it from consuming much. At the top of the hill where the small graveyard had been, there were no longer any crosses. There was nothing marking the graves of those already dead. Within hours, anyone that had luckily remained close to town would bury the dead upon the dead, graves reused and stacked while the rest of the destroyed town remained on the ground. Destruction and depression had once again swallowed the town. There was no saving grace for the people of Murate, there was only wicked, torturing hell. Those that were dead seemed to be the only ones that had been given any grace, those deceased, had been saved.

[/font]Micayla

The day was starting out stormy, again. The weather had yet to clear up. The wind whipped sharply and the trees whistled angrily as they bent and cracked, weakened from the storm that had ripped through the territory. It had been exactly three days since she had last been conscious and yet finally, she was beginning to stir. Her eyes slowly cracked open with a wince as she swallowed with a soft moan lifting upon her dry, cracked lips. Her eyes were a dull shade of emerald now as she came to gaze out into the world with a look of confusion as she glanced skyward, the first thing that she could see. The sky was grey and angry and rain threatened to fall once again. Cold, hard rain. The weather had yet to clear up. Her mind seemed stuck, unable to process just what was happening at the moment as she began to stir and wake. She tested each of her limbs, feeling pain racking her form. She winced, gasping. Pain arced through her body and she stiffened sharply, wincing before she closed her eyes slowly again instead with a heavy sigh.

When finally she could manage to think, she slowly lowered her hands to push herself to sit with a wince, lifting a hand to her head, dried blood was matting a patch of her hair. She made a face and glanced down at her legs, a sudden cry entering the air. Her eyes were wide at the sight and she tilted her head, feeling dizzy. Her ankle was twisted awkwardly, dark bruises circling her heel where there was a rather odd lump pressing against the skin. She felt queasy and even as pain laced her spine, hot tears welled in her eyes but just as quickly as they had come, she brushed them away with the back of her hand before glancing over herself. She had various cuts and scrapes, her head ached terribly and she felt dizziness rack her. Her cloth dress had been ripped from one shoulder and along the bottom, exposing her right thigh a bit more than usual. The worst thing she had to note, was that she was at the edge of the wastelands with no clue how she had gotten there nor how to get home.

The female gazed around herself thoughtfully for a few moments, vaguely remembering standing out in her garden and looking skyward to the angry grey clouds as they circled above and threatened to break loose a merciless storm. Flinching, Micayla sighed, laying back on the ground again as she came to stare skyward as a few small specks of rain began to drop down upon her stilled frame once again. She was aware of her pain but there was no way she could lay here in this land and stay put. She couldn’t walk, but she could die if she continued to lay here. She would either drowned from the pooling rain or she would catch pneumonia from the rain. She winced, sighing as she slowly sat up again with a wince, glancing at her ankle before she slowly pushed to stand but when she did, she fell back towards the ground again, her ankle giving a sickening crunch as she stood on it and a cry leapt past her lips once again. She was stuck in this little crater of a wasteland and it looked as if she would soon die.

As she sat there, comprehending how she would escape from the wastelands, a rumble emanated throughout the lands. This time however, it was not from the sky. It was a steady and repetitive rumble and soon enough, the vibrations racked the very ground that she sat on. Confused, she lifted her chin to gaze around the rocky and barren landscape before sharply, she bit her lip with a wince. Dragon. The black beast was thundering about, obviously agitated as he made his way around the landscape some yards from where she sat. Though Orlonox was only working his way back home, he was furious and dissatisfied with the way that mother nature had tossed things about, and he was not to be messed with at the moment. He was likely to snap and kill anything in his path in the midst of making his way back to his swamp. He had already killed three Muration guards that had shown up in his path, each having been picked up and dropped, scattered about the wastelands from the castle and of course all fat headed and wanting the head of the dragon had led them to death. One had been stripped of his armor like Orlonox was stripping the skins of an onion and then had been placed on the ground and chased while the flesh melted off of his hide and finally there was nothing but bones on the ground in place of the man. The next had been burned with emerald fire and the third, ripped apart slowly and eaten in pieces until he too finally died. The dragon was feeding off the torture of the humans currently and the ignorant Murate soldiers infuriated him anyways. It was not the first time that he had taken a bite out of the army of the King. He enjoyed it.

Micayla however was frightened, nervous. The sight of the enormous dragon made her swoon and she winced, the breath darting from her lungs. It seemed that many from Murate had been lifted and tossed about for they had little to no shelter. Their homes were in tatters and leaning on rickety buildings and those that owned shops or fair homes, kept the rest out. Greedy bastards. Micayla of course had taken refuge in her own home, along with nearly every orphan that existed on the streets it seemed for she had wanted dearly to protect them, and no one else would. She had gone out in the raging winds to find them and bring them home with her and now look, she was in the middle of the wastelands for crying out loud! Hissing, the woman refused to give up. She feared that if she pursued her home, the dragon would find her and make a meal out of her as well and yet she planned to skirt away from the dragon himself. Practically the only thing to do was crawl. If she had happened to be tossed by the woods, she could have fashioned herself a walking stick, a crutch of some sort to walk upon and yet here, in a world of stone, she was finding it hard to find anything to help so instead, she crawled out of the crater to perch on the edge, her gaze traveling around herself now for how was she to find a direction in which to travel when she had no clue where she was or what direction she needed to get back to Ohanzee?
[/color][/font][/center][/b][/size]

[Deidra]

Jazwinder....Terrible Fates

The dark figures traveled through the wind and rain. Jazz and Kaspar trekked through the weather the usually bare chested male draped in a black cloak in attempts to fend off the rain. Jazz could not remember in the many years he had lived in Murate, there ever being a hurricane as bad as this. Though the farther he traveled into the Wastelands the lighter the rain seemed to get until finally all he saw were grey clouds and a spattering of rain here and there.

Sighing heavily Jazz paused Kaspar for a moment getting his barrings in the rocky turrain. He'd been there many times in his travels, for he was in many concepts a Nomad for he had no true home except that of Ellsinora, where his sister had been able to escape back to after the attack. Finally, hearing wings above his head he looked up and pulled himself from his thoughts, and saw Orlonox. A small smile played on his face as he saw the dragon he called Reptar, affectionately of course. The dragon had, some time passed, come across him and Jazz in the swamp. And so Jazz found himself following the dragon slightly though slowly as to not draw attention to them in this barren landscape.

[Desperanza]

Orlonox and Micayla

[/color]


Orlonox scanned the horizon, his eyes narrowed as he gazed across the landscape. The grays and blacks were bland and the landscape barren, no doubt this was the wastelands. In the storm, he had not bothered to venture out of the swamp, rather figuring that the storm would pass momentarily and that he could hold his breath longer then the hurricane would rage but soon, the waters had begun to swirl and lift and had been spattered and tossed about across the landscape. The dragon had finally been forced to pull himself from the water and make his way through the storm but battered and pushed about and with rain so thick you couldn’t see but a few inches past your own nose, the dragon became confused and when finally, the storm let up, he had been stuck here in this ugly landscape. He had by now spotted the small black spot upon the earth and when he had drifted closer, he had identified Jazz, a traveler of which he had allowed to escape with his life and of which had not bothered him so now, he did not kill him either. Instead he had circled away, drifting closer to Ohanzee, the town that Micayla needed to reach. He had yet however to spot the woman who was stuck upon the ground and instead he was scanning for soldiers. The pestering little men had seemed to survive no worse for the ware and it irritated the dragon. While innocent lives laid scattered and wasted, those little insolent bastards had survived. The numbers that they had lost were minute. Sighing, the dragon made another circle, his acid green eyes scanning the landscape once again as he continued on his way.

Micayla’s eyes fluttered open once again, gasping softly. Pain pulsated from her injured ankle and she winced, swallowing. She took a breath and slowly, the defiant woman propped up onto her hands with a huff, refusing to be stationed on the ground, open for attack. The auburn haired woman cast a glance around herself, her eyes scanning the landscape. This land was not made for one to walk out of, nor to survive. There was no grass here, no trees. There was just stone, angry grey stone. The land was barren of anything that she could use to survive and who the hell knew how long it would be if she would ever be rescued? The thought made her wince and clench her teeth. No. It couldn’t end like this. She clenched her hands into fists and pushed herself to sit up again before she reached her hands out and crawled out of the crater with a huff. She was thin, she hadn’t eaten in nearly a week now and she felt as if she would pass out at any moment. Despite this fact, she refused to let herself be put to death here in the wastelands and with her teeth clenched, she made her way out across the stone, crawling the whole way. She couldn’t walk but she could sure as hell make her way slowly but surely through this landscape.

It seemed like hours that she had been crawling though it had only been about fifteen minutes but her lack of nutrition, the damp rain at her back and her knees scraping stone, she sighed feeling as if she would be forced to give up soon. She winced, rocking back on her knees as she squeezed her eyes closed and took a few deep breaths. She felt the odd touch of dried blood on her body from her cheek to her arms, her legs, her stomach. There seemed to be dried blood everywhere and her dress was in tatters. This storm had not been kind to her. Gritting her teeth, she finally lowered her head to glance around herself for a moment, tears threatening to sting her eyes but she paused as a shimmering sight reached her yards away. Whatever it was, it wasn’t all that close yet but the image was close enough for her to make out that it was a horse, or a donkey perhaps and it was dark. Her mind flashed forward to not long before when she had met Jazz and his beautiful black stallion and she sighed wistfully at the sight as she slowly sank to the ground. It couldn’t be, it would be a miraculous chance that she would be saved here in this barren wasteland, a definite miraculous chance. It would be so lucky of her for him to show up here of all places and though she prayed that she was not imagining things, she felt a shred of hopelessness.

As she laid there, pain pulsed through her and finally, salty tears fell from her eyes and fell down her cheeks. She trembled, staring into the swirling grey skies. Her hands were cut and bruised and she lifted them slowly to her chest with a wince, closing her eyes against the drizzling mist that shrouded the wastelands now, the last remainder of the moisture from the sky seeming to trickle across the valley. As she laid there, she pondered the possibility of being rescued, of making it home. She wondered what had happened to the children, the orphans that she had been harboring in her home. How the hell had she made it here, to the wastelands? How had the storm managed to yank her from her home and toss her out here? Panic began to grip her as she imagined the children strewn about the town injured or possibly dead and the thought made her tears thicker, now unaware of the traveler that was drifting closer to her and further, that the traveler was Jazz. She was stuck in a pit of despair and pain, her conscious state waning slowly as she laid upon the stony ground.
[/center][/size][/font]

[Deidra]

Watching the dragon fly off towards the town settled Jazz a little, he still respected Orlonox and seeing him leave him be just strengthened that respect. But instead of following the dragon towards the city he turned Kaspar in the opposite direction farther into the rocky terrain. His surefooted stallion making his way across the rocks in no real direction just going. Everything a grey haze and his eyes searched the ground ahead. He didn't really expect to find anyone out here, but he still felt he had to look.

No he never expected the sight he would soon come upon as he wandered aimlessly throughout the wasteland. It seemed as if out of no where there was a hint of color and Jazz squinted his eyes against the haze and was just able to distinguish a body laying in the rocks. It was still some ways off and he clicked his tongue to Kaspar and the stallion picked up his pace until they were soon upon the figure, a familiar one at that. "_Micayla!" Jazz said outloud but in nothing louder than a normal speaking voice as he quickly dismounted his horse and made his way to the woman he had met before, a fond memory of the kind woman. "_Micayla!" he said again this time quietly as he reached her, his tall figure kneeled down beside her as he prayed that she was alive.

[Desperanza]

Micayla’s eyes remained closed for a few long moments before she finally began to stir once again, her eyes flickering open slowly. She was vaguely aware that someone was calling to her and at the moment, that it was a man, a man that she recognized. She did not spend any time with men when she did not have to so the one man that she did, she recognized. It was Jazz. Now she was sure that she was dreaming, or hallucinating. One or the other surely must be what was teasing her. At the moment, she was sure that there was something amiss. Perhaps she was even dead and now she was in heaven, dreaming of the one man that had been able to stir the desire within her honestly, and the one man that had not treated her like a sex slave and had instead respected her. Breathing deeply, the female ‘s emerald eyes fluttered open slowly. They were vaguely dull, representing the bad state that she was in. She needed a good meal and a drink and she needed to get out of the sun that was finally beginning to show in shreds of light through the clouds above. Now the storm was beginning to break. Her hand lifted to press her fingers into her tangled mass of red auburn hair. Blood was dried on a few strands and she let out a soft sigh, her eyes coming to stare up at Jazz now.

The sight of the man seemed to give her a refreshing kick of seeming energy. The sight of Jazz’s face enlightened her and slowly, she came to sit up once again despite her weakness and pain. Slowly she shifted to turn towards him, her hands reaching out to play with the folds of the cloak that surrounded his form, her voice seeming to lose itself for a moment but soon, she spoke just one word, “Jazz.” She whispered, her tone desperate and yet eager as she leaned forward closer to the man and pulled herself closer, tucking herself into his lap for she believed that she was still dreaming, or possibly dead. It was such a miracle that Jazz would show up here where she was stuck, the wastelands that seemed set on claiming her life. Taking a breath, she lifted her hands to stroke his face gently from his cheeks to his jaw line as she inclined her head, a wondrous smile upon her face as she looked up at Jazz, “You are so handsome, so sweet.” She murmured, feeling rather dizzy. She took a breath and cupped his face gently between her hands as she lifted her chin and pressed her lips to his own. She was not aware that her actions were real and that she truly did kiss him, not that she would object if she was completely aware. As she tucked herself against him, she happily curled against his chest with a soft sigh as she leaned against him and settled herself silently now, her eyes drifting closed as she relaxed against him.

[/size]

[Deidra]

As he knelt down beside her Jazz felt her neck gently to check for a pulse, as he did so he let his eyes come to rest upon her familiar face. He held his breath for a moment, her pulse was weak so very weak but as he watched her face he saw her eyes begin to flutter and his breath came out in a huge sigh of happy relief. She was okay, that's all he cared about now. Jazz watched as she opened her eyes, those wondrous green eyes and looked up at him and then as she lifted her hands to her head feeling about where a gash was already drying. He cursed silently to the gods for allowing such a thing happen to such a kind woman and the he lent her a smile.

As she sat up he let an arm set on her back lending her some support as she looked terribly weak and then gazed at her thoughtfully as she then went on to play with his cloak. Jazz's head turned to the side slightly as he noticed the somewhat faraway look in her gaze, as if she were elsewhere. She touched his face fondly and then spoke in a dreamy voice and Jazz could only look down questioningly upon her as he found her tucking herself against him and then as she took it further, and kissed him. His eyes went wide for a moment as he took this in. He had just been kissed! And she wasn't even there enough to realize that she had. No he knew then that she needed some medical attention and he was not one to give it to her. He would take her to the shore, he knew several portsmen there, they'd be able to help her and possibly get them away from Murate as well.

Jazz looked upon Micayla as spoke "My lady, look at me, can you ride?" he asked her. He took in her appearance and noticed her black-blue ankle and winced. It would bot be comfortable for her but there wouldn't be another way. He looked over to where Kaspar stood and sighed. It would take at least a day maybe two going at a slow walk to reach the sea, but it was going to happen he was determined to get her help, and a better home. Looking back down to her him kissed her forehead lightly and said "Micayla, I promise to help you however I can." and he meant it for the woman had bore herself a spot in his heart, right next to that of his sisters and equally as large.

[Desperanza]

The woman was vaguely aware. She was aware that he was stirring and his movements were faster than her own and that he seemed much more aware and whether or not he agreed with her movements, she was unsure and at the moment, she was far too dazed to know or comprehend much but when he spoke, she listened. She struggled to pull herself around enough to comprehend what he was saying but enough so that she detected that he was asking her to ride. Ride what? She vaguely thought of the black dragon that she had spotted and she trembled. She didn’t want to ride a dragon, they frightened her. She had never had to face anything more frightening then a pet dog, or a Muration soldier. There were some scary characters that traveled Murate but the dragon was something that she had never come across, even through the trips that she took for water for she skirted the swamp and kept going into the trees at that point. Not however, she was growing nervous, wondering if he meant for her to ride a horse. Even a horse made her a bit nervous. She had never ridden in her life. She had never ridden anything besides a man and that was not willingly.

Micayla trembled, her weakness showing through and the fever beginning to burn within her as infection set in and a quiet cough fell past her lips. Infection was seeping into her open wounds and gripping her body and she was beginning to grow sick. She had no clue where he was taking her or where they would go but his hands were gentle and his lips touched her forehead and she breathed deeply, her lungs filling quickly as if she had suddenly caught a breath of fresh air. As her chin tilted upwards, her eyes finally opened slowly as she came to look up at the face of Jazz but her eyes were troubled and the pain showed through but her lips smiled despite that as she nodded numbly to the man. She needed his help and she would not argue, riding or not she knew that she would be crawling otherwise and she would die here so her hands pressed against his chest, against that black cloth that had cloaked him from the rain and she clutched his cloak between her fingers, begging for his help. She wanted to thank him. She wanted to give him anything that he desired at the moment because she knew that this man was saving her life and without him, she would be dead. So now, she did not argue and she was thankful and if she came around again, she knew that this man would be the first that she would want to see. Inhaling deeply she took in the sweet and masculine scent of his clothing, his skin and she sighed, content, her head lolling against his chest once more as she began to drift again, struggling against the sickness that was beginning to take over.

[/size]

[Deidra]

Jazz waited for a reply but he realized quite quickly that she was quite too far gone to give much of a reply. He held back a pained expression as she gave him a vague smile and then sighed as she lay into him once more. He pulled her gently into him and then tucked one arm under the bend in her legs and the other took her around the back gently. He rocked back to sit upon his heels and then pushed his tall frame up until he was standing fully. Jazz clicked to Kaspar and the stallion walked to him, coming to a halt just in front of his master. Slowly, so slowly and gently he set Micayal upon Kaspar, making sure to take care not to bump her foot against the saddle. In normal circumstances he would get up behind her but now was not a normal circumstance. He would only hurt her if her did so, so instead he took up the reins of his black stallion and set off towards the sea, and their better hopes. Jazz knew where he would take her as he had a handful of friends who had made their home along the shore and one happened to know a little of medical training. He would take him to Ishmael and his wife Sharla, there Micayla would be treated and they could wait for a ship to take them to Ellsinora and a better life. Jazz refused to let any thoughts of his sister enter his mind for now he had only thoughts of getting Micayla well again and hoping she would bot hate him for taking her away from her home and her garden.