Itjivut was low on the list of places that Dalanesca wanted to visit.  The last time she had even held a conversation with someone regarding the island, it had given her a strange jolt in her mind.  Of course, her divinity had given her insight now as to why she felt that way.  In a previous time she had held a strong connection to the element of water - though that had long since passed and remained no longer.  Being in a place such as Itjivut, with such a strong connection to that element itself, gave her a feeling of unease, as though she were in a place she didn’t belong.  


But right now, that did not matter.  Word had been sent to her realm, the Blinded Scales, that something was upsetting the balance near Itjivut.  Skirmishes had broken out between orcs, goblins, and elves, and it was resulting in an alarming amount of bloodshed.  This bloodshed was setting off her divine alarms, thus she deemed it necessary for her to visit the site and see what she could do in order to stem the tides of the attacks.  From the intel that had been shared with her, it seemed that the Hiadref and the Rafandi tribes of elves on Itjivut had formed a makeshift alliance to fight back the hordes of goblins and orcs. 

While Dalanesca’s disposition meant that she would most certainly not take a specific side in the fray, she knew that she would aid whatever side seemed to be falling further behind.  When she arrived, she could see in the distance (as well as sense with her mind) that the elves were not having the easiest time holding their ground, which made up her mind as to which side she would be lending her assistance to, at least temporarily.  After a moment, she had teleported herself near one of the tribal leaders.  It took a moment, but the elf seemed to realize who it was that had appeared.


“I’m here to help,” she said firmly, and he gave her an understanding nod.  A slew of orcs were headed towards them, having dismantled the makeshift blockade that the elves had erected.  Dalanesca reached behind herself, grasping the hilt of the long, thin sword that resided in the sheath down her spine, and drew the blade, holding it at the ready.  “Let them come!” she called to the elves - a sort of morale-boosting war cry.  “Then cut them down!” she yelled, holding the blade out in front of her, ready to strike at the first enemy that reached her.

It was bloody freezing here, Hiro thought to himself as he stood there in the snow among the other defenders of the elven tribes.  He heard the orcs and other warring tribes were attacking the elven tribes on this island, so Hiro decided to make his way here to help.  He was glad that he knew it was going to be cold so he could dress appropiately.  He was dressed up in his normal armor and a heavy cloak, but also bundled up with animal furs over his armor to trap some warmth in.  It still felt pretty cold out there.  He wanted to get into the action, so he could at least warm himself up, as they took out orcs and goblins that were likely to swarm after them.  Hiro watched his fellow soldiers getting antsy as well, some were really nervous and afraid of the forces they were about to face.  Suddenly, a mysterious woman appeared and talked to one of the generals.  There was a loud shout and calamity from the orcs that appeared in the distance, charging from them.  He heard her voice yelling over them.  He felt slightly warmer hearing her cheer them on, as she prepared herself to fight with them.

Who was she?

She was armed with a thin long sword, which she had unsheathed from her back.  Hiro unsheathed his own blade, a large, well crafted bastard sword.  The youth, sporting black hair with red streaks, appearing more than sixteen years old, charged at the nearest orc that approached him, plunging his blade through the orc's gut, pulling it out, then parrying the next orc who charged at him.  He held his blade in two hands, pushing his sword to knock the orc back, then performing a powerful vertical blow, an overhead swing, to cut through the orc's face and chest.  Blood sprayed from the orc's wounds, covering the snow they were fighting in, and getting on Hiro's equipment.

"Damn orcs, even in death, they can't die gracefully.  Why do they always have to destroy and pillage everything?"  Another orc approached Hiro Kouen from behind, brandishing a large greataxe, he swung it wildly and forcefully at Hiro, who parried his blows, but he seemed to have troubles finding an opening to strike back at his opponent.  The orc seemed not to tire, as if he was in a berserker rage, wildly lashing out at him, forcing Hiro to be on the defensive, if he sought to keep all his limbs intact. 

The elven troops around her seemed to rally to her cry, and she could not help her face from curling into a devious grin.  The prospect of cutting down her opponents exhilarated her, and she prepared to rush forward with the troops as the orcs came towards them.  They reached the line of battle, the sound of steel on steel clattering in her ears.  One of the orcs rushed her - a hulking mass of dark green, grizzled skin.  He swung a jagged, curved sword in her general direction.  She ducked swiftly, as though it were in her second nature, dodging the blow.  The orc looked astonished, as though it had never occurred to him that this smallish woman had outdone him.  Dalanesca took advantage of his moment’s hesitation, plunging her own blade into the orc’s belly and slicing sideways.  The orc emitted a gurgling sound and fell to his knees, clutching the large gash in his abdomen in an ill-fated attempted to keep his innards from spilling out onto the pristine white snow.  Dalanesca watched, a cruel smile curling her lips.


Two smaller orcs caught sight of what had taken place, and rushed the goddess without warning.  She managed to parry the blade of one of them, striking the weapon out of her opponent’s hand with a flourish, but she was slightly too slow on the other.  The tip of the second orc’s blade caught her bicep, tearing through her leather armor and into her flesh.  She drew in a sharp breath of air at the pain, and her eyes visibly darkened.  Crimson blood splashed the ground, staining the snow.  With narrowed eyes she took a step towards her attacker, holding her hand out towards him.  Tendrils of black smoke slithered towards the orc, wrapping themselves around its throat, entering through its mouth, ears, and eyes.  The orc seemed to be choking on the smoke, and Dalanesca was laughing.  Without warning, she stepped forward a bit further and plunged her blade into the orc’s throat, cutting upwards.  He fell without pause, laying dead on the ground.


She turned towards the newcomer.  “Don’t put up much of a fight, do they?” she called?  Her eyes had turned nearly black with the darkness spilling out, and she chuckled as the tendrils of smoke curled their way back into her palms.  At her throat an amulet flashed, one that would give way to her true identity - a scale with swords.  If the newcomer knew his deities, this amulet would allow him to recognize her quite easily.

He caught sight of the woman who rallied the morale of the heroes that were protecting the island from the orcish hordes.  She had leaped into the fray herself, and was fighting near where Hiro was fighting.  She fought with surprising strength, despite her slim appearance.  She could talk the talk, but also walk the walk.  Hiro sidestepped out of the way of an orc, which swung his axe down at full strength, the axe slamming into the ground, giving the knight a chance to sweep his sword into the orc's gut in a counter attack, causing the orc to collapse to the ground, blood pouring out of the orc's stomach wound.

"They're all brawn, no brains.  I'm only sixteen years old, and these orcs are grown warriors, yet they fight like they're green!"  Hiro paused for a moment in what he was saying realizing what he just said.  "I mean that figuratively, though they are also literally green skinned.  Who trained these guys?" he laughed out loud, catching a glimpse of an amulet of a symbol that looked familiar.  It had a scale with swords on it.  Why did that look familiar?  Then it hit Hiro, like the sword he just plunged into his enemy's stomach.

He was talking to a Goddess.  That symbol was in a book Sapphire Rose showed him, a symbol of one of the Deities of this world.  This was Dalanesca the Justiciar of Order and Balance.  What was a Goddess doing here?  Obviously, she's maintaining the natural Order and Balance by tipping the sides.  The obvious answer that was in his head.

Clash!  An orc charged at him swinging a double axe in his hands.  A large, and intimidating weapon with a double bladed axe head on both ends of it's shaft.  It was a weapon capable of fighting multiple opponents at once, good at twirling attacks, but requiring an immense amount of skill and finesse to wield properly.  This orc had neither, not to mention his opponent had something he did not.

Hiro took a hand off his sword and pointed the palm of his hand at the orc, the orangish-reddish flames he inherited from his parents came to life around his hand, and the knight unleashed them at his opponent in the form of a concentrated blast, smashing through the orc's weapon, and piercing a hole through his stomach, insuring his demise, and causing the orc's whole body to light ablaze.

"I could of sworn I saw that symbol in a book a friend showed me, does that make you Lady Dalanesca?  It's a pleasure to meet you.  I never would have expected to meet yet another Deity of this world.  I think that means there's only one I haven't met yet.  Lady Moliira knew my father, and so did Lady Angela.  I met Lord Torn when fighting in his Warrior's Gauntlet.  My name is Hiro Kouen, son of Sabishii Kouen, though I know not if that name means anything here, since few people know of that name in this world.  It's a relic of that Other World I came from."  Hiro gave a slight sigh.  "If this world has a counterpart of my father, I haven't met him yet,  he may have never existed here."  He said, referring to that Other World his father brought his son to, then disappeared after Hiro arrived.  The lad wore a tabard with the crest of the Eternal Phoenix over his armor, the symbol of the Eternal Flame his father believed in.  It was a fiery phoenix in golden yellow on a field of red.  He swept his glowing free hand in a wide arc, unleashing a sweeping wall of flame setting fire to a number of orcish warriors, who were sent scattering and screaming in pain.

He wondered what happened to his father, why he didn't follow him through the portal to this world, if something happened to the world they came from.

Dalanesca smirked at the youth’s enthusiasm.  If the age that he gave by speaking was accurate, he had impressive skill for someone of only sixteen years.  She chuckled softly at his realization of how silly what he had said sounded, considering the color of their opponent’s flesh.  

She sensed the realization that washed over Hiro, but did not comment on it nor act upon it.  Currently, they had other, more pressing issues at hand to deal with - such as the onslaught of orcs still heading towards them.  With a very brief free moment, she admired his multiple skills as he released a spell on his attacker, engulfing the orc’s entire body in flames coupled with a piercing blast.

Within seconds of her focus returning to their opponents, she had been triangulated by three of the attackers.  They ran at her, battle cries loud and weapons held high.  She laughed, loudly and darkly, reaching to her left side.  She moved swiftly, so fast that one could barely make out her movements, and with a flourish she threw her arm forward, releasing three throwing knives from her hands. The three attackers that had been running towards her fell roughly to the ground, each of them with a throwing knife embedded directly into the center of his forehead.  She let out a noise of satisfaction, and as she glanced back at her would-be partner it seemed that the onslaugh mildly receded, if only momentarily, with the attacker that he put down.

When he spoke her name, she nodded, but did not say anything at first.  She let the young man continue to speak, listening to him closely as he spoke of Moliira, Angela, Torn - members of Conclave with whom she shared her divine power.  When he mentioned his father’s name, it struck a chord - perhaps he was someone she had known in the other realm she had once existed in.  The crest looked mildly familiar, but she couldn’t get as good of a glance at it as she wished since the boy turned to burn the last of the attackers.  

Eventually, she spoke.  “You’re not wrong,” she said.  “But this,” she said, clutching at the symbol at her throat.  “This doesn’t mean nearly as much as it used to,” she said, her hand tight around the scale emblem as though she were contemplating throwing it to the ground.  “Justice doesn’t always come,” she said, and her voice was distant as though she was thinking of something unrelated to the battle that had just taken place.  “The orcs have fallen, but more will replace them.  Order can only be restored for so long before chaos takes its place again,” she said, her eyes glancing towards the group of elves not far from their position, seemingly regrouping after the attack.  “Their dead will be buried only to be replaced by more bodies,” she said, with a sigh.

A massive orc came flying at Hiro in a berserker rage, making an impressive leap through the firewall he the lad had created, swinging two axes wildly.  Hiro stepped back, putting some distance between them, distance that was quickly disappearing, as the orc ran full tilt at him.  Hiro was forced into the defensive, as the orc got into range of him, he swung wildly without tiring.  Parry, parry, dodge, sidestep.  The orc wasn't giving up.  Hiro could see his breath in the chilly air, at the orc, more skilled than most of them, continued to press the attack, not giving him any breathing room or chance to counter.

"Would you quit it?  By the conclave!  This one's persistent!"  Hiro parried another attack swinging into one of his enemy's blows, finally managing to push the beastly orc backwards, putting some distance between them and giving Hiro a chance to breathe.  The orc berserker nearly fell over before regaining his footing in the snow.  He bellowed a loudly, giving a loud battle cry, meant to make the young lad shake in his boots.  "Heh.  So scary.  Want to hear my war cry?"  Hiro took a very deep breath, and unleashed an intense spiraling torrent of flames from his mouth, enveloping the orc, who wasn't expecting anything of the sort, and had no defense against such an attack.  The orc stumbled forward, his skin smoldering and burning, he released one last gasp through burning lungs before collapsing to the ground dead.

"Bloody hell.  Fuggers won't give up until they're dead."  Hiro turned toward the Goddess he was talking to previously.  She seemed not happy about something, how justice doesn't always come, and order was fleeting, and chaos was always quick to replace it.  "That's what we're here for.  Justice doesn't come on its own.  Heroes will be, and must always be there.  I'm sure you know the Gods and Goddesses aren't perfect.  Even they aren't almighty.  That's what hope is for.  We prepare for war, so that there will be peace.  We fight and make war so that there is peace.  For every bit of darkness in the world, there is a light that'll pierce the night.  The lone flame in the dark.  That's what my father taught me.  I believe in that.  There's always hope."  Hiro gave the Goddess a warm, reassuring smile, which it seemed she really needed.  She seemed down for whatever reason.

Suddenly, their conversation was interrupted by a deafening roar that shook the very ground they stood on.  An intense, icy blast of air blew across the battlefield, chilling everyone to the bone.  There was a loud shout from someone on the front line, as the eyes of everyone on the battlefield turned upward.

"DRAGON!"

A giant, icy blue wyvern appeared overhead, surrounded by a visible aura of coldness and frost.  It flew circles around the battlefield, kicking up snowy winds, as if it were purposely sewing fear across the battlefield.  Which of course was the case.  It started to fixate on the area Hiro and Dalanesca were around.

"Shit, this is not good.  Not good at all.  If it were just the orcs, this would be easy, but it seems this is their secret weapon.  Or rather, isn't this the driving force behind the orc's attack in the first place?  Why is it looking at us?"  Hiro felt himself sweating a bit, he was shaken, but not stirred by the dragon's appearance on the battlefield.  But the worrying part was that the dragon was just flying circles over them.  Was it picking out the strongest heroes on the battlefield to pick them off?  No, that's not quite it.  Then it dawned on him.  "Dalanesca, it seems to know who you are.  It's fixated on YOU."  The dragon swooped down toward the duo, and started a strafing run, unleashing it's freezing breath in a line, freezing all warriors, friend or foe, human, elf, or orc, in it's path.  Hiro ran in front of Dalanesca, one hand on his sword's grip, and his other hand against the flat of the blade.  "Shit!  FIRE WALL!"  Hiro focused all of his magical ability in a powerful, fiery protection field.  The deathly cold breath struck the fire wall Hiro created.  An intense pain flooded his senses, ice was quickly forming on his whole body, but he continued to channel the spell, proving a measurable defense against a spell that would've surely killed both of them had he not acted.  The ice breath passed, and the dragon flew past them, circling around as if it was going to take either a second pass on them to finish them off, or maybe it wanted to actually land to finish them off in close range.  Hiro was finding it hard to keep conscious, as he was quite chilled to the bone.  His body was covered in both ice and hardened blood.  He stumbled forward, his whole body in horrific freezing pain.  He stumbled forward, but would not collapse to the ground, as if he refused to fall.

"T-that the best you've got?  C-come on, fuggin' dragon, I will EAT YOU alive!  I-I'll make armor out of your hide!  Frost-proof armor!  Yeah!"  He hardly seemed in the condition to continue fighting, but his iron will wouldn't let him drop.  He waved his sword, now frozen to his hand, through the air.  "Y-you . .  won't take me . . . down . . ."  He could barely even see straight, the whole world seemed frozen over and blurry to his eyes.

The orcs and goblins seemed to be endless, but they were at least falling.  Qannik found herself staying out of the fighting for the most part, she knew that she would only get in the way.  But when the dragon appeared in the skies above, she knew that there would be no more hiding.  She ducked behind a wall, managing to avoid the worst of the frigid winds that the dragon breathed on the battlefield.  But others were so lucky. Qannik could tell the people used to fighting, and those who were used to staying away from the fights.  And she saw one who probably should have stayed away.

The young man looked close to her age, staggering around, and shouting nonsense.  He definitely needed to be pulled out of the battle, and Qannik knew she could get him somewhere safe.  She spoke in the only other language she knew, fairly certain he wouldn't know the Rafandi tongue.  "You're going to die if you stay here, come on!" she snapped, before dragging the man off to a more sheltered area.  She knew by the look of the exposed skin he would start losing the battle to frostbite sooner rather than later.  Qannik only hoped the frost hadn't gotten into his lungs.

Shoving him into a tent with a healer, Qannik looked at the young man once more.  "Snow-dragon hide isn't very good for armor by the way.  Believe me, we tried.  It is good for making tents like this at least.  Now, try and drink this.  It'll thaw you out," she said, holding a bowl to his mouth.  The brew contained fire-nettles, stewed lichens, and snow-berries.  It was bitter and spicy, but the berries helped with the flavor.

Hiro was fighting to keep standing, but the frost breath had taken it's toll on him.  He collapsed onto his knees, and was now just struggling to keep conscious.  It would've been so easily to just close his eyes and pass out into the void, but something was telling him that if he closed his eyes, they wouldn't ever open up again.  Hiro suddenly felt himself bring dragged toward a tent, a woman's voice yelling at him.  As he collapsed into the tent, he heard something about ice dragon hide not being good armor.

"You mean the ice dragon scales can't be used like metal in a blacksmith's forge?" he muttered, freezing in the coldness that had enveloped him.  It really wasn't relevant to what was going on, it wasn't the biggest concern at the time, but he was freezing to death.  Hiro felt something hot and warm being poured down his throat.  It was hot, bitter, and spicy, with a hint of berry sweetness.  He nearly coughed up what force fed to him, but a warmth was bringing brought back to his body.  A healer in the tent got to work pouring healing magics into him, further bringing warmth and life to him.  "T-thank you.  I thought I was a goner.  I tried to protect against the ice breath with a fire wall.  It wasn't enough.  I have some ways to go with my magic power."  He curled his fingers into fists moving his limbs as to test if they were still attached and still had life to him.  "My name is Hiro Kouen.  Who are you?"  He looked at the woman who saved him.

She waited to answer the question about the dragonhide until the stranger had gotten some of the healing brew down his throat.  Once it looked like he wasn't going to pass out, Qannik clarified what she said.  "You can work it a little bit, but it's more like using leather.  You have to soak it in a brew of herbs and innards to make it soft enough to work with.  If you try and work it into smaller pieces like armor, it just shatters," she said with a shrug.  Her people had never quite been able to work out just why that was, but Qannik knew that many had tried and failed.  She nodded at the thanks, and glanced at the healer.  They talked for a few moments in the Rafandi tongue, and Qannik grinned. 

"Pala says you will be fine, and that your thick head saved your life.  My name is Qannik.  It is good to meet you, Hiro Kouen," she said, carefully pronouncing his name.  Of her people, she was one of the few who could speak the outlanders' tongue.  She could hear the sounds of battle dying down outside, and the dragon's roar sounded more distant.  It was very hard to kill a dragon, and she knew it was likely that it had only been driven off.  "So just why did you come here to help strangers?  Most are looking to gain something or other from us," she asked.  The motivations of outlanders were always of interest to Qannik.

Hiro was feeling better after downing the drink he was given, and receiving healing magic.  "My father, he's a blacksmith, but he refused to work on dragon scale armor, even the ones where you work the scales like metal.  He didn't use dragon scale armor either.  I asked if I could have dragon armor at one point, and he said no, because it was disrespectful to dragons, and would get me killed if I had to fight one.  He said it was akin to wearing a person's skin around like an armor.  He had a friend who was part dragon," he said, getting serious toward the end.  "Still want to kill this damn dragon though!  He just blasted a bunch of people through one sweeping run."

She asked him why he was here helping strangers after introducing herself.  "It's a pleasure to meet you, Qannik.  As for why I'm here helping strangers, I'd guess it's because it's the right thing to do.  Not looking for money from helping, or favors, or anything like that.  I help people.  I go where I'm needed, fight what needs to be fought.  If a dragon is terrorizing people, someone has to step in and help them.  I'd like to say I'm trying to be a hero.  A hero who defends people who need defending, protects the land.  I came to this land to make my own name here, to help those in need, to be a hero, like my father before me.  He came to the land I came from for similar reasons, so I guess it's in the family, heh."  He looked about the tent, and saw that his sword was brought with him, though the ice breath he was hit by froze the blade.  The sounds of battle had gotten quieter, and the dragon's roar was far in the distance.  It seems it had been driven off.  "Well, seems the dragon is gone, though I kinda wanted another crack at that damn thing.  If I could get into closer range to it, maybe my fire magic would be more effective.  It was attacking from far away with a breath weapon out of nowhere.  I was trying to protect that Goddess so I tried putting up a firewall, it wasn't completely effective," he frowned a bit.