The Chase Stops here

Heated blood raced though my veins, heaving gulps of air into my lungs as my legs push me away from my pursuers. Snarls from four blood hounds caught up to me as their masters screamed out at me to stop resisting. What fools.

One hoof after the other trampled the forest floor, weaving between trees to avoid my captors. Their mutts snapped their jaws at my heels, their men tossing ropes at my arms, grazing my hair and knees. Adrenaline pumped through my veins painfully, pounding out of my head.

Reaching the territory's border, I slip into the shadows and lay low to the ground. My heart still pounding out of my chest, my eyes pulsate, watching the group search me out. The hounds will find me. Their noses are trained to track the satyr kind and destroy them. It's our fate when we cross over the territory lines, but not today. Today will be different. It is time to break that mold and start rebuilding everything the humans have destroyed.

Their noses traced the ground, following my tracks, getting closer. Fearfully, I pull back and prep to run again, but something inside me changed.

No, the chase stops here...


Well, it seems like you've finally made it. We'll skip the cushiony hellos and all that hoohaa and go ahead and get started. The name is Rasthy, but I go by Rath. The whole town has been talking about your arrival and why you're here. Seems strange that you want to write a biographical report on the Satyr-kind considering the ... problems the humans have had with our existence. Just don't waste my time, kay?
But before we begin:


Savior of the Satyrs?

Neopian Name: Rasthy
Neopian Species: UC Faerie Ixi
Name: Rasthy Ai-Kasumi
Species: Satyr
Nickname(s): Rath
Spirit Name: 詐欺の天使
Translation: Angel of Deception
Gender: Female
Earth Age: 27
Birth date: July 6th, 1666
Hair Style/Color: Straight brown
Eye Color: Blue
Anthro Height: 6ft 7in
Anthro Weight: 143lbs
Skin Tone: Pale white with purple shading
Love Interest: None
Status: Unknown
Lookup: Click *here*
Art by my sister, KC! :D


Physical : She has sleek, straight, and layered dark brown hair and has bangs that cover her left eye. Her chin and cheekbones are defined with indented cheeks. Protruding from behind her goat-like ears are a terrifying set of horns that curl around towards the back of her head. Her full lips are a natural blood red color with bleach straight white teeth. Something unique about her smile are the strange teeth of hers. When calm, they seem herbivorous and rather flat, easy for quick grazing on vegetation. When slightly agitated, her teeth morph slightly omnivorous. Unfortunately, when irate or in rage, her teeth painfully morph into a deadly set of carnivorous teeth. Her body is slim and muscular. She is young. She is beautiful. She is smart. She is deadly. And she's after you.

Personality: She's probably one of the sweetest fawns you could ever meet! Always helping out, she's always smiling or laughing. Probably one of the most trustworthy souls around. She's never been one to not socialize. She prefers listening to others problems so she can fix them. Her real motive was to learn more about her victim, but time softened her heart. She was once very sly with conversation and her slim and seductive charm only intensified her threatening stance against society. She had come for revenge. She had come to avenge. She seems to have gotten lost on the way~


Honest | Pure | Loyal | Protective | Classy


Stubborn | Short-tempered | Judgmental | Fake | Evil



Pet Pet and P3

Meet Fée the Purple Xepru and Nikka the Glyme. Fée is a come-and-go-as-I-please sort of pet. She's about the size of a squirrel and has purple short fur and radiant azure eyes. Randomly leaving to explore, but knows when she is needed and will quickly return when called no matter the distance. Something unique about this Xepru is that she's mystical. When enraged, she can grow over twice her size to about the size of a tiger. She's very protective of her master and makes sure that any who dare challenge her owner knows it.

As for her Glyme, Nikkita, he's very relaxed and doesn't quite do much. He's basically a slug, only looks cuter and smells better. Lila keeps him in her garden and harvests his slime once a week for unique healing ointments and such. Unfortunately, if harvested incorrectly, it can result in harvesting a poisonous corrosive goop that eats away at almost any surface. He's more or less the protector of her home while she is away since she never locks anything.

Petpet Cost: ~24,000 NP; OWNED
Petpet Paint Brush Cost: ~400,000 NP; PAINTED
Petpetpet: ~1,700,000 as of 11/2016

Back | Next

A Novella in the making

Lilia was taught that there was a great woman she was named after who brought the Satyr race out of severe endangerment and saved them from the horrid purge by the humans. But the whole history that she had learned about over the past few years about the Satyrs is a lie. Although the humans did almost destroy off the Satyr race, but when they found Lilia, they noticed they have unique properties within their blood-cells that if extracted can be used to cure almost any of the incurable illnesses plaguing the human race. Soul travels to the untouched sacred lands to figure out the truth behind the Satyrs, but was the truth worth learning?

Note: Because TNT decided they do not like the double quotation marks next to angled brackets and don't like it when I try to indent, I will be using this style of font to show that someone is speaking. Internal thoughts will use the 'single quote mark.' Easy enough? :)

& before I forget! Font in this color is role-play by the wondrous Liz, but the dialogue will still be this color! Liz is a close friend and guild-mate of mine who as peaked my interests into role-playing Soul! :D We are very pleased with how it's started and would adore to continue this work.

Chapter One: Histories

People always thought we Satyrs lived in caves or slept in fields like real goats or rams or whatever. No thanks to those stories of Narnia with the silly Satyr Mister Tumnas, I'm sure. But we are so much more civilized than that.

The name is Lila. Some call me Soul because I'm as strong and unbreakable like a Soul. Why they say it? Beats me. Guess it's just a long story that they won't tell me. My mother once called me Mare because she said I had untamed beauty like the wild mares that raced through these very forests before we came. Well… that's what my dad told me she'd say. But please, just call me Soul.

Now I know what you're thinking, such a strange name and it is! Not very feminine or strong. What were my parents thinking? I don't even know honestly, but I'm proud of my name. It was a name given to me by SparrowClaw in honor of the Great Lilia Rai Katsumi, one of the most well known and most influential fawns in Wikile Country. The fearless protector of the Satyr kind. Many thought she was divinity herself- if that was even possible. It is said Lilia, the woman I'm named after, was the one who saved us from the horrific purging. It's not like my people worshiped her, we just honored her because of the respect she brought back to our name and she pulled us out from the ashes of destruction. During the purge, she was the only Satyr to come into contact with the human race and not be destroyed. She brought temporary peace between them and us. How? We don't know.

Years ago the humans sought to purge my kind and remove us from the land. Permanently. It's said that our ancestors founded our home in Wikile Forest and created this save haven for the Satyr kind. Being mystical creatures, no one really gave us any credit. We evolved just as humans did, though more peacefully. The creation of our kind offset the human race and they began trying to destory us. It's known as The Great Purging. Heard of it? Anyway, it is said that the humans hated us. We were different and went against their beliefs and The Journals they adored so much. In their eyes, we were demons and had to be destroyed.

SparrowClaw, our clan's head master, assigned fifteen satyrs to protect the neighboring clans. Each one had a special gift. Marrow was a keen archer. Femur had quite an amazing hand in close combat. And everyone had a right to fear Priscilla and her ... poison darts. I was trained to wield the smaller weapons: daggers, knives, and the like. All of us were known as death dealer to the Humans and had a weakness that eventually caught up with us. I'm the last death dealer of Wikile currently alive. For what I fear is for only now.

I noticed that something began to brew in the darkest parts of the forest. Something foreign. Years of peaceful living was about to be ruined and the secret peaceful life of the new Satyr life was at risk for exposure and second-purge. And those two things alone were dangerous. I was just like every other Satyr in Wikile Forest, but what called me to seek out this darkness? I can't really answer that. All I know is the fate of my father, my kin, my home- is at stake and I'm the only one with the guts to fight against it.

Chapter Two: Just Another Day

My body yearned for more sleep, I could feel it in my bones as I slipped out of bed and over to the curtains with eyes crusted shut with sleep, and I groped around for the fabric to pull them back. The sun's heat licked my cheeks as I moved the curtains away and opened my window to let in the morning breeze. Forcing my eyes open, they dilated in the sunlight and focused outside on the great oak tree's limbs swaying lightly to the northern winds. It was the seasonal winds signifying that spring was now coming to an end and summer was clearly approaching. Mornings, I groaned.

Dragging my feet to my closet, I pulled out my forest green top. Everyone thinks me odd for being obsessed with purples and greens and that I prefer the closer-fitting garments over the gypsy tops that all the other fawn wear. What can I say? I don't follow trends. Never will. I reach for the sheer lavender shawl and tied it around my hips. After quickly tidying my room, I made my way downstairs. It was a beautiful day outside and I was feeling pretty confident about the adventures at hand.

I lived alone. I've never been one to have mates or whatever it was that people kept in a home. I was old enough to live on my own and I have been doing fine. Oh and I do have a pet, though I do not currently know the whereabouts of her location currently. Whoops.

My eyes notice my front door opened and a young blond haired human standing outside, a dirty, dusty brown book in hand. Stopping, my eyes narrowed and I hissed, Who are you, human?

Molly, she whispered, timid and terrified of me. Maybe it was my mess of dark brown hair of which I forgot to brush or the fact that I have half the body of a human and the other half of a goat-like creature. Did my hooves really scare her? I chuckled at the thought as I walked closer to her quivering body.

She was haggard and tired, probably hungry. My gut told me to not waste my time, and my own words betrayed me, You hungry?

I walked to the kitchen, keeping her in my perifial vision and began prepping the morning meal and beginning morning chore. While I worked, I began, Traveling from the Human Territory to here isn't exactly a simple walk to the local market.

She nodded.

I trotted from my small, nearly empty fridge and grabbed a few ingredients to whip together some flower and eggs for some hopefully delicious pancakes. Pancake after pancake slapped themselves onto a plate that I brought to my guest, quickly scampering off to get a glass of orange juice for as well.

I join my guest at the table, thinking of the grand histories of the Satyrs and a soft smile crept onto my face before disappearing and awkwardly opening up to this human stranger.

Why are you here? My mom died when I was only 3 years of age because of your kind. Leaving me and my father behind as she passed on. A lot of my other family was destoryed in The Great Purge with the rest of those close to us. My mom and dad were the last of their families now Father and I were the last of the Kusami name. I honestly hardly remember anything about her, except for the amazing scent. She smelled of lavender every day. I remember. My father always told me that I was her greatest treasure. I wish I remember her saying it herself.

I looked up at Molly with wet eyes, picking up empty plates and glasses and putting them in the sink to soak. I saw it in her eyes, she pitied me, yet said nothing. I didn't want her pity.

Come, I'd like to show you something. We walk outside to greet the day, some Satyrs minded their own business paying no mind to the human walking alongside me. Others quickly scampered inside. They knew what was going to happen relatively soon. Poor, unsuspecting, human.

There's never that serious hustle and bustle here like that of the human towns and cities, even though that busy life intrigued me so. Your kind is so interesting to me. But in order to keep the Peace of Lilia the Divine, we have to remain separated and hidden.

I turn towards Molly, walking backwards, Now I know you did not join me to listen to my sob story about my past nor hear about the Satyr histories, but I know you're not here on cordial business or just as a vacation. So follow me please, I'll show you exactly what you seek.

I wink at Molly and giggle, trotting off gleefully, my shawl billowing in the breeze and my messy unbrushed hair flopping about.

Well, come on now! I call for Molly as the distance between us increases. Feeling pulled in by an invisible force, Molly follows, away from the quaint town and into the maze of trees of which generally terrified the human race. There was a glint in Soul's eyes that attracted Molly to the Satyrs, it was unusual for their kind to be so social with humans.

Soul, where are we going?

To my favourite place in the entire forest. It's quite a treacherous journey from here, she smiled widely, continuing her trot-like stride, sunlight dancing off her skin between the leaves of the trees. Through the forest, around boulders, and over the most peculiar of hills, Soul reaches for her hand and leads Molly to the Far West Alocci Falls.

Some of the most sacred meetings took place on these grounds, they say it's the only place in the world with the purest water. For hundreds of years, the Satyrs come here to remember our great leaders and kin. The humans never dare to travel this deep into the bush because of the great monster that guards our home. Lila smiled at Molly, then eyed the landscape and sighed happily.


Soul's laugh echoed through the trees, rippling out her throat like a drop of water into a stagnate lake, Relax. Soul dipped her feet into the water and smiled, It's just an old widow's tale to scare the children.

Molly watched Soul wade deeper into the water, almost sipping the sunlight off the surface.

Don't be afraid to take a sip, the journey was rather long.

Nodding, Molly kneeled down and face the water to take a quick drink. With her lips almost to the water, Molly fell backwards as water suddenly spritzes her face. Molly faces the water as its ripples grow farther apart. Big azure eyes blink at Molly innocently before spraying her again. The small creature tilts its head, looking as the human most curiously before hopping out of the water and shaking dry.

Fée! There you are! The small purple creature skipped on six legs over to Soul, its squirrel-like long tail bouncing with every stride. It jumped into Soul's arms and snuggled close, cooing to her name.

Oh! Fée likes new people, too! Soul chuckled, scratching the small creature's back.

What... is that? Molly's voice trembled slightly, clearly not used to anything out of the ordinary.

Fée stood on Soul's forearm before climbing onto her shoulder and into her hair for warmth, She's a Xepru! Very few actually bond with others. Guess she's just unique!

Fée continued to squeak and chirp, nestled in Lila's hair, They act a lot like the small woodland creatures you're used to. Uhh... Squirrels and chipmunks. Things like that. Scared by everything that moves and everything that doesn't, but will always be friendly enough for a small snack. Nuts and fruits got her and what would ya know! We became quite the pair, doncha think?

Molly nod, speechless over the creature, water still dripping from her face, So, why are we here?

To talk, she paused. So why did you come here?

My grand father died many years ago, passing on his posessions to his only son, my father. My father gave me his books when I became of age. I wanted them. His knowledge was so vast ... I never had the chance to get to know him. I was too young. Molly sighed. Soul turned away from Molly, They say this place was the very land that Satyrs and humans came to a peaceful agreement, but I've always need curious about the real histories. None of this spoon-fed text book stuff we learn as we age. Like there's something more that they aren't telling us.

Fée jumps to the ground and scampers off into the trees as Soul faces Molly and smiled, the pet knew quite well what was about to happen.

I've told you quite a bit, and shown you just as much. I'm surprised you even made it this far into Satyr territory.

Molly interjected, Hear me out though ... She pulled out a tattered book, but Lila ignored her.

You directly went against the treaty between our races. Human curiosity will be the death of your kind. Now tell me why you have come! Her smile faded and sweet eyes melted into a glare.

Cowering in fear, Molly trembled to reach into her pocket, grabbing a worn over-used journal. With a shaking hand, she gave it to the enraged Lila. It was my grandfather's personal journal from The Great Purge. She choked out, He has at least four more, maybe even more than that.

Soul grabbed the book from her and flipped through the pages. Hand-written notes, drawings of more than just Saytrs. Dragons, Minataurs, and the poor Nymphs were all in the book. Basic descriptions, drawings, weaknesses, strengths. Notes, ideas, plans. Her lips trembled. I didn't understand alot of the notes, I wanted help decyphering it all with the last species alive from the Purge. Molly looked at her, I can bring you the other journals. I have a box full of them. Just please, help me!

Fée returning to Soul's side and hissing at Molly. The pet's body was shaking as it grew to the size of a medium-sized Bengal Tiger.

Soul snarled and added, Did I tell you she can do that? I'd best not upset her. Not all of the Satyrs are peaceful, sweet and kind like you'd like to imagine. Some of us would love to feast on your pathetic bones, but alas... your kind is too gamey. Remember that monster I told you that guarded that place? Yah, that monster is me. Now, be gone before I take care of you myself.

Lila roared as Molly retreated into the abyss of forest behind them.

Chapter Three: The Journal

The enraged Lila watched with narrow eyes as the shadowy figure slowly vanished from sight, her flared temper slowly relaxed.

The nerve of that defiant little heap of lies, she glowered at the thought of even speaking to that... that thing. Fée hopped down from a nearby pine and trotted to her feet, nuzzling into her owner.

With her hand still firmly gripping the spine of the journal, she spun and began walking back home. 'What a useless walk here,' Lila thought to herself, completely unsure of why she acted so sweet in the first place. 'I should have done away with her when I had the chance. A little bloodshed never hurt any satyr.' She chuckled to herself, maneuvering between trees and bushes back to town.

I'm the death dealer, they say. I do away with those straggling humans who come near our people, they say. It is my destiny predetermined by the Great Lilia, they say. Can everyone stop saying what /my/ destiny is or should be.' She grimaced, Fee following at her heels.

Many hellos were passed when she returned to town, a few whispered thank yous, and a hug or two. Everyone knew where she took the humans to ... take care of them. They know when to be out and about and when to remain indoors. Today was just another one of those stupid days. Upon reaching her home, she quietly return to her private quarters. The bedroom, certainly the most untouched room in the house. Curtains were closed and her shawl hung on the doorknob, she threw the book onto a nearby desk and flipped a switch, turning on her desk light. She turn the first page and began to read:


The Angel of Deception, eh? A gravelly voice burned her ears.

She gasped and spun 180 degrees to find a dark figure, hardly illuminated from the light, advancing towards her quickly.

So you're the reason my window was open. She hissed.

He chortled, My child, is this a way to treat your superior?

She shook her head no as his talon-like hands grazed her cheek and lower lip.

You are beautiful, my child. Now... it's that time. He smiled.

Why now? Can't you distance your visits? I feel like people are starting to take notice! It's not small changes you make, Aku.. She was cut short.

Ahhh... My child, say not my name. You know not of the consequences when that name is uttered, do you? He traced a circle around her shoulder. Anyway, shall I extend the visits to every week? You know the price you have to pay, my dear, and it shan't be a cheap one at that. He hushed her as her body began to shiver. Your time has almost come, soon you will no longer need my avid visits.

A tear streaked down her face and he wiped it away, Be not afraid, my child. Now... Let's begin.

She felt his talons begin to dig into her ribs as a boiling liquid shot from his fingertips and into her veins. Her body convulsed once, twice, repeatedly. Her mouth clenched as his teeth sunk into her inner thigh. The pain intensified and her body shook and eyes lulled behind her head as the venom raced through her body and soaked into her soul. Her wings began to transform from their delicate soft white color to a black and cherry blossom pink.

Suddenly everything went black.

Until next time, my child.

Lila clenched her eyes shut, heart racing and hands shaking. Small beads of sweat developed on her brow which were quickly wiped away by the back of her hand. 'What on earth sort of journal is this?' Her thoughts wavered as she closed the book. Seeing no title, she turned to the first page and read a small block of text.

She read, L'Ange De Tromperie

She slammed her fist on the desk, That stupid human! She duped me. This is no personal journal. It's a stinking story book!

She placed the book carefully back onto her desk and turned her light off, fingers rubbing circles on her temples as she repeated the title in her head. 'L'Ange De Tromperie. L'Ange De Tromperie. L'Ange De Tromperie. Why does this sound familiar?' She frowned, beginning to undo the ties in her corset, reading herself for bed. 'L'Ange De Tromperie,' she sighed and slid underneath her covers.

I must speak with Sévère and Espoir tomorrow. Perhaps they will be able to help me.

Shutting her eyes, she began to drift off to sleep, dreaming about the naive Angel of Deception.

Note: Bits of the story that have to do with characters by the names of Spencer and "the Count" are role-play sections with my friend Liz. Thank you Liz for role-playing this with me!

Chapter Four: Homosapiens

Adrenaline raced through Molly's veins like magma, dodging branch after branch as she escaped for grand pine forest and away from the monster-like satyr she had just met.

My father never prepared me for this', her head spun as she broke out from the forest's shadows. Bringing her fingers to her lips, she whistled for her mare and the sound echoed endlessly through the sunset laden meadow.

Come on, Legacia. Where are you? She felt night approaching faster than her steed. Whistling again, she sighed, She's not coming.

In the distance, Molly heard the whinny of her mare and her face lit up, There you are girl! What took you so long?

Her mount nickered, motioning to the crumpled parchment shoved in between the saddle and blanket.

Legacia was called back. The satyrs are notorious for destroying off any humans who enter their territory. In hopes that you were spared, I sent Legacia back. You must return home immediately. The Grand Council members wish to speak with you…

It wasn't signed. Legacia, who called for you? Molly searcher her mare's eyes, but was far from any answers. Let's go home, she sighed and mounted quickly, digging her heels into Legacia's hips and sending them both flying forward in a fast paced gallop.


There had really been no choice. This he stubbornly relented, aiming another growl-aided blow at his opponent. He should never have sought the company, of anyone. The memory smacked him hard, and he faltered.

What? No cute witch girls for you, Spencer? he growled, snapping a button off his coat violently. It bounced off into the darkness.

Oh Tholorelm, he hissed to himself. His coat was already in horrible condition. It was faded from what possibly had been a cool black, to something resembling the skin of a dead grey and brown…thing. A mangy thing, for the frays of what must have been cloth stuck out like clumps of fur, strings of hair falling to the ground whenever Spencer moved. If only, he thought, it could have been made of skin. As soon as he had no other choice, he was using some of his gold and buying a real leather coat. He began to rise in search of the button he had lost, but sat down immediately. Some idea seemed to pass before his eyes, and they narrowed. To himself, he said:

You know, you never do anything that you don't feel is absolutely necessary. You're always pushing it. I mean, look at you. Falling apart, and here thinking 'Oh, don't bother with it.' Like some kind of lazy fool. When was the last time you had a bath? Or spoke to a real person?" he was about to continue lecturing himself, he looked poised to complain about something else, but then the light in his eyes changed. He growled, stood up and kicked the ground.

I can't believe I'm hearing this. Really? I've always been alone. I don't want to talk to people.

He bared his teeth at nothing, er himself, but the flare of anger dissipated completely when he heard a soft chuckle. It had come from beneath him.

Upon realization of what it was, he hissed, The very ground laughs at you, fool and sat down again with a slump. His shoes, squeaking in the grass, had brought him back to reality. Examining his history, he would be silly to think that he didn't want or need people. As a child, he had been outgoing, and as a forest dweller he had travelled with his wolf. He had always been talkative with her, and when she left he had made that deal with Patrick, and then there were those two ladies in the cottage, and now…he was alone. Truly alone and he was talking to himself. How ridiculous could he be, to think that all this time he had been alone? There was only one thing he could do, he decided. There was simply no other choice. He would have to get over people.

Charged with resolve, Spencer acknowledged (there was no debate) that it was time to get going. He patted his pockets and took one last look around, and set off toward the road. If he were lucky, maybe a…carriage would drive by.

Pardon! Pardon me! Slow down! he called out after the passenger vehicle making speed down the road. Loose road gravel sprayed as the coachman pulled at the reins. He looked back to see who was calling, saw Spencer, and began to speed up again. The four horses tossed their heads in confused protest, and thundered away. Oh bother him, Spencer murmured, looking down at his clothes and sighing. When he looked up again, the carriage had stopped a little up the road, and a man was getting out of the back. Something was exchanged between the two men that Spencer could not hear, and then the passenger started in Spencer's direction.

Spencer made up his half of the distance, wary but adorned with a smile. He thought he would have to make his case quickly, looking the way he did, but the stranger beat him to speaking.

I'm so sorry for that. My cabbie seems overly concerned with getting to the castle before dark. He's not very friendly. In the city, we don't just ignore people like that, I'm so terribly sorry. Oh, I'm John, John Walder, by the way. In on business form Lindony, hopefully not for long… he smiled nervously, picturesque country you've got here, uh…

Spencer Durin. He filled in. Spencer thought that John looked incredibly out of place, perhaps easily gullible. It would likely be pointless to try to rob him, as the businessman was dressed plainly and didn't look well-off at all. Maybe that was why he did not seem to have yet noticed Spencer's own unkempt look. He had mentioned something of interest, however… You said you are going to the castle? he added, an idea formulating; an idea which involved catching a ride with a certain unsuspecting traveler.

Oh yes. My business is with the Count. I'm an interior decorator, here to discuss color for his new place in Lindony. I don't think he's ever even seen it. A dreadful barbaric thing…nearly falling apart…and next to a cemetery no less. I suppose he'll want to tear it down and re-build. I'm a little surprised he's called me this early in the process. Oh! You know, I've never met the Count, and people aren't very forthcoming about him. Do you know him? Are you headed up to the castle as well? said John. He was smiling broadly, as if delighted to have someone finally paying attention to him.

I am, in fact. I'm in charge of making sure everything gets transported safely. Insurance and security, that sort of thing Spencer rep, doing his best to mimic the speech patterns of his new city companion. He had no doubt that John would soon offer him a ride up to the castle, to meet this 'Count'. A purple tint had invaded the sky behind them, and like clockwork the coach driver called out something in a foreign language. Even if he had the jewel equipped, Spencer's adept hearing wouldn't help with that one. John chuckled to himself.

It's very quaint, no offense, how the native peoples in these parts are so superstitious. I'm afraid I can't help a little laugh. Someone back in the village told me what that meant, he waved his hand at the coachman, apparently referring to his words, and it appears to have something to do with evil and danger coming with the night, monsters with no name. Sorry, I hope you don't think me rude for laughing he said, but did not hold back his mirth. Spencer chuckled along, not really amused but having no reason to believe the tales either.

Oh no, I'm familiar with the rampant superstition, you learn to live with it after a while but it's still funny when you stop to think about it he chimed in, having fun with his new role. Given some time, he thought he could even cultivate the perfect city ramble. John nodded enthusiastically, and then his shoulders slumped as he looked at the coachman, who was still waving his arms.

The man would not even leave his horses in order to come and fetch John. Spencer would have to watch out for that one; he might have a keen eye for deception. John turned back to Spencer, sighing somewhat more dramatically than country men would dare,

I ought to get back before he has a conniption, a bigger one, anyway. You know, Mr. Durin, I insist on you joining my party up to the castle, walking up the mountain just won't do he began walking back to the carriage, and Spencer had only to follow. Just you try to bake that cake.

Upon reaching the castle, Spencer exited the vehicle, ever slightly more disgruntled than when he had boarded it. Night had fallen hard and the darkness made him seek the moon. He found it peeking two thirds-obscured from behind a thick spire, one of a countless many. The details of the castle were not discernible at this time of night, as the whole building was limited to a looming silhouette, but the overall effect with nonetheless sublime…Well, maybe not sublime, but Spencer hadn't seen a structure this size in…actually, he hadn't ever seen one so big. Hey, that's what she- um, where were we? After locating the moon, he made sure not to look up again. John appeared at his side, and in the gas lamplight, Spencer could see his unassuming grin.

I bet this place is exceptionally picturesque during the daytime. Did you see the portcullis? Hmm, I wonder where our coachman disappeared to? John held the fading lamp aloft, and squinted.

Oh well. Here's the door. It had better not a long wait, I'm feeling quite chill he traipsed in that direction, and Spencer followed closely, if only to prevent the man from falling in case he stumbled. The stones that made up the walkway were uneven and dislodged in places, and a thump in his pocket reminded him of the charm he carried. Traversing this place would have been much easier in his other form. His hand smoothed over the fabric that covered the charm, and feeling its shape beneath the fabric brought him comfort. They had reached the door, and John looked at him expectantly. Right, of course. He stepped obliquely past the other traveler, conscious of his dirty coat brushing John's tailored clean one. Thank darkness. The door stood like a solid slab of stone in front of him, doing whatever the opposite of beckoning was. He grabbed the appropriately oversized knocker and dropped it.

It didn't take long for the door to open. Spencer expected a loud groaning sound, maybe a scratch or obnoxious squeak from the door as it strained on its hinges or touched the ground. What happened was even more terrifying. With a perfectly silent and deceivingly light swing, the door opened. It didn't look as if anything had opened it, for there was no one in sight.

Hello? Spencer said, forgetting he was supposed to know better. At last the sound of footsteps brought forth the image of a man to the door.

Welcome honored guests; the Count has been expecting you. I am Igoro, at your service.

Igoro, a short bald man who looked as if he ought to have worked in a blacksmith's shop, nodded and bowed. He looked genuinely pleased to serve. Maybe he just didn't get out much. Spencer walked through the door past Igoro, and John clasped his hands and said fantastic! in his usual way, before doing the same.


Spencer and John stood still as a cooling bowl of stock that someone had forgotten on the stove, facing the high back of the Count's chair. How very dramatic, Spencer thought, shaking off the feeling of haunting dread that came naturally with a place such as this. It scowled at him reproachfully, before going to pick on John some more. A rustle of movement came from the Count, and with the speed of someone something with heavy luxurious garments, he rose. Even as he became visible from behind the chair, there was something in the manner of his rising that called to Spencer's mind the image of unfurling, as if the man grew taller in increments. The Count's posture stopped one notch below completely upright. He was tall, and though laying heavily of lush fabrics, looked thin to the extreme. He shoulders were held back and square, proudly, but his neck and head arched forward as if he were listening intently to the words of someone just under his nose.

The Count rounded the chair and made his way to stand before the two men, arms outstretched palms upward in greeting. He had an equally welcoming, youthful face, which contrasted harshly with his back-swept white hair. His eyebrows and lashed were also fair, and the overall look was of someone whose face was colored with bleached flour. His eyes stood out a shocking blue, one shade darker than hazy cataracts, yet clear and…discomfiting. Spencer saw they were not friendly like his gesture was, for something was hidden there. The Count spoke:

My good visitors, I am pleased that you have made your way safely to my house. It is much better to meet a friend face-to-face, don't you think? That way we can be properly introduced. I am Benedict Fillip Moraedor, Count Erevik. But please, call me Duke He smiled, and his teeth were, if even possible, whiter than his hair. John smiled back, of course, and Spencer watched him lean forward slightly, I'm John Walder, pleased as ever to meet you, Count. He glanced at Spencer, as if not sure whether to let him speak, or just go on. Spencer nodded complacently. John continued:

Do…Do you think this is the color palate you'll be wanting in Lindony? I have my lookbook, and some inspirational pictures from the garden three kilometers up the road from where you'll be staying, it's lovely. I think the colors, if we brought them to your place, could really brighten the place up. Oh! And they'll still work even if you're building, instead of just reno… The Count took in a breath, and with at all of the sound from the room. Or so it seemed.

In fact, I plan on keeping the residence looking exactly how it is. I would like for you to tell me more of this garden, as well as the current designs in Lindony, later. There will be time. Now, I have business with my Head Hunter. He turned to Spencer, to say something further, but John interrupted.

Headhunter? Eh, you know what, I know a firm back in Lindony that'll set… he swallowed, catching the Count's look. Spencer was re-formulating his plan, now that he was being called a Head Hunter. Well, better than being kicked out, he supposed. This, he reckoned he could fake well, for he was a great hunter. The Count, ahem, Duke, motioned to a side door. Apparently whatever this hunting business was, it didn't involve John. Igoro had reappeared and had hastened the interior designer off in another direction. That was fast. Spencer walked briskly into the new room, confident in his ability to impress. The Count…er…floated in after him.

You're less polished than the gentlemen they usually send, but all's the better. I'm sure you will be merciless in the pursuit. How often have you hunted satyrs? Oh, I'm sure of your credentials, don't doubt that sir. I'm only curious. the Count asked. Spencer smiled, a beastly smile, some might say. One or two lonely girls out there might say it was handsome, but only because they didn't know him very well. With a smooth cadence, he replied,

Satyrs are my specialty, I've lost count if the hurt, but the hunts, every one, I remember well. My father taught me the best techniques, and they called him the best until the day he died. That was many years ago, and I've far surpassed his ability. I get you your satyrs, be sure of it Spencer ended confidently. This 'project' actually sounded interesting. But, just what the berries was a satyr?

Chapter Five: The Hunt

Acting was one thing', he told himself, a means to a shiny, glittery (possibly even jewel-encrusted depending on the Count's stores) end. Taking on a job to keep up the act, however, was another. It must have been boredom. Or insanity. No, probably both.

Hand me the map Spencer commanded Barley, the burliest of the sixteen hunters hired by the Count as assistance. There had been a seventeenth, but that one failed to show up. Spencer had as of this moment four of the men with him, as he had decided that a hunt strategy was in need of being made. Barley handed over the map heavily. It was something , and rolled on two think dowels. Spencer preferred his maps folded and easy to carry.

First thing. Toss the map. We're not going to be finding any satyrs by following an outdated scrap of skin he gruffed, handing the unpleasant scrolls to another of the men, Ashlyn. Ashlyn passed it to Beryl, and he gave it to…That was as far as Spencer had gotten with the names. They didn't matter anyway.

I have a better way of finding the little buggers he said, half to himself. I hope they're not afraid of monsters. His pocket was heavy with the tool that without fail would bring him to magic. If there were any of these creatures around, he would find them. He only had to stay in the daylight.

Let's go further in he shouted, and Barley jumped. That was funny. The trees collapsed the light around them as the party made their foray into the woods. This was his element. Spencer took the charm from his pocket and slipped it quickly around his neck. The woods became alive.


Tying her hair into a braid, Lila sung quiet hymns to herself to calm herself, covering her face with brown and green war-paint and shoving daggers into their sheaths and a few other weapons into that over-used messenger bag. Shawn was off speaking softly with ThunderCrow, an overzealous little nerdling with a huge heart for Lila and sadly the only reason why her and Shawn's work is still allowed to work under wraps. The last time she spoke with him was when he courted. But that was years ago, when she was just a trainee. His trainee.

Joining the men, she ignored Crow's existence, Shawn, we are burning daylight chatting. Basically code for, we need to leave (without Crow) NOW.

Hey, Soul! I haven't seen you in that attire since training camp back when you were just a teeny fawn! ThunderCrow smiled, eyeing her figure. You've become quite the woman.

Clenching her fists, she about faced and headed for the back door of 'headquarters.' Let's move out.

The men followed close by, Shawn with his crossbows and various arrows, Thundercrow with his lack of any sort of actual ability and enormous ego. Lila didn't know where to start, but knew that as soon as they left the safety of the Wikile Forest, that was when they had to be on their toes. All the other neighboring tribes were in the safety of nature, but as for us? We're shoot out of luck and the only clan in the flat lands of the forest. You got that, Crow?

He nodded, I know that.

Lila was close to snapping, even just having him around was going to be an issue regardless of if he's saying anything or not. A pressured glare from Shawn kept her composed though as they trekked farther into the forest. Shawn taking the back, Soul taking point, and Crow smack dab in the middle to stay out of trouble. Though he was older than both Shawn and Soul, he was twice as immature, and three times as useless on scouting parties. Soul shot back a look at Shawn that read 'Why did you let him come?' His eyes yearned for forgiveness, but responded with, 'Didn't have a choice.'

ThunderCrow began to disregard the idea of being sneaky, stealthy, and /quiet/ so he began talking. So, we are scouting what? The humans were closer to the Marsh Clan and the Highland Clan, not us. They've never been even relatively close to us.

Never been relatively close? Oh boy, Shawn covered their rear while Lila advanced towards the loudmouth imbecile accompanying them.

For your information, they /know/ where we are and have /been/ in our very town. So with all due respect ThunderClaw, the failure of a son of SparrowWind, shut the hell up and just walk! We don't need you giving away our position with your loud mouth, useless remarks and comments every fifteen seconds! By this time, Soul's hand was around his neck and she had pushed the muscular satyr against a nearby Evergreen Pine. I don't care how macho or large you think you are. If you're not careful, I will not be afraid to squash you like a bug or treat you like a human. Got it? She let go of her grip and stormed off.

Shawn approached the white-faced Crow, Sadly, because she /is/ our superior when it comes to scouting, I'd suggest not causing any more trouble. She'll skin us both alive. Slapping the back of his head, he followed behind Soul, hoping she cooled off a bit.

He's been too loud. She remarked.

I know, but we can't do anything about that. The reason he got cut from ever completing his warrior training was that big mouth of his.

It doesn't mean I want to deal with him! Seriously, why is he here? There has to be a catch.

There is.


You're not going to like it.

Just tell me!

She started growing impatient, and even a tad too loud herself.

You're father.

Lila stopped in her tracks, a light breeze blew past the fur of her legs and jingled the gold anklets of which were her mother's before she died. What?

I didn't want to tell you because I didn't want it to interfere with the mission at hand.

It won't. He just hasn't spoken to me since she died. And now I have to deal with this? It's just not fair. She whined like a child, something Shawn never expected to hear.

ThunderCrow caught up and tapped Shawn's shoulder, flinching when Soul looked at him, Do you guys here that? They all stopped to listen, their animal-like ears helped when tracking and scouting.

Humans. Soul spat.

How many?

Fifteen. No. Sixteen.

How far away?

Far enough that we can find cover and investigate without being noticed.

Soul glanced at Crow, Keep your mouth shut until further notice or I'll rip the lips from your face. Oh, and good ear.

... To be continued ...

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The Sketchbook

Ukraine's Adoptables

I've only honestly done this before for Draiks, Unis and attempted adoptables for Lupes. I'm used to drawing dogs, dragons, and horses-- Ixis? Not so much. Though they turned out pretty cute! ^_^


  2. Do NOT use in Art Gallery or Beauty Contest.
  3. You MUST keep the link back to this page.
  4. Do NOT remove my name or modify them in any way.
  5. Do NOT take a custom unless it belongs to you!
    (when I start making Customs that is)

Art Requests:
[-] Open | [x] Closed!

Art Trades:
[-] Open | [x] Closed!





















**More to be made after possible adoption**

Adoptables for Rasthy

Prince's Lair . . . Isdari Adopt.A.Ixi.Plush

Fan Art!

I have to thank EVERYONE for all their hard work with these EPIC pieces for Lila! I know Dragon, a few of her friends, and my big sister KC were ever so helpful with their fan art contributions and I am just so grateful for all their help and support. I honestly had NO idea I'd be making this section... I'm sooooo beyond grateful and lucky to have such amazing friends. No joke.

((Some artists are linked when you click on the piece.))
& Drag and Drop into a tab to view larger image!


By Oreo-Septim

By Trotterrat

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