Enzo's skin had changed color and hardened dramatically, to that of a dragon, as he continually rebuffed the odds that stood against him and the rest of the group. It was the strangest thing unlike anything Corman had ever seen, but it was also strangely fitting for Enzo. His eyes hardly reflected the weight of the task he accomplished. Yet, between his joking and somewhat crude behavior, there was a determination to see everything through to the end. And it wasn't what was immediately at hand, but a far greater goal, even a lifelong purpose that he was heading toward with an impassive stare while carrying the world on his shoulders. He met the task, though, his goal was far beyond and he was still yet content, knowing that there was always more for him to do.

Turning back to himself and seeing the tracks lead off into the wide distance. This was a well beaten path that many had crossed, yet not a soul was in sight for all of that expanse. The cracked clay crumbled under T'aasson's hooves. It was uneasy feeling, seeing that this wide plain had once been watered and now lies like a crackling stretch of parchment that at any moment could swallow you. Wreckage from previous caravans sat on both the sides of the well worn path. Ruins that often accompanied burned patches of ground and greasy bones; remains from both the marauding trolls and those they had claimed. Corman had seen his fair share of these creatures since crossing through the forest, but nothing of this magnitude.

It would be a while yet before he saw his own lands again. It was a bitter thought that soured his mouth. He lifted his waterskin to his lips and sipped carefully; watering his lips and keeping his mouth moist all the while resisting the urge to drain the pouch entirely. Briefly sidetracked, he realized the that water stores likely would need some topping off. He would have to pray to the Gods tomorrow morning to make sure that people didn't feel unnecessarily pressured to conserve their water supply. In a dismal and dry place like this, a simple offering of water can give an abundance of hope.

The thoughts rushed back to him, his people... slaughtered, driven and scattered. I'm sure that the advance of the Big Urukai completely took his small village by surprise. Anna's gift, the gift that he urged her to use for their purpose, turned the evil eye onto his own people. He could feel sadness, but the anger was greater.

He could see in his minds eye, the defenses gathering and the bulwark set up while the infirm, women and children fled the scene of a sea of Big and Little Urukai that had been heard of more in legends than seen by Vorseman eyes. Anna, poor Anna. She heard and saw, or perhaps perceived, the battle, the loss of life and the fact that this came to her--our--village solely because of us.

His brother, though Corman wasn't particularly close to him, was dear to him. Despite Corman's lifelong frustration at being second, thus always his brother's servant, he dearly wished that he could remain that unscrutinized second especially because of the cost of life. He wondered if his sisters, Fretya and Monwy, had managed to survive the attack. Monwyr would likely have fled as she had never been well trained in the use of hammer and ax, though she was reasonably efficient with a bow. Her husband would likely have died in the attack, standing at the front as ever his way. Fretya, who was one of the Valkyries, would have either been on detail away from the village or, perhaps there in the thick of it. She would have died well with the blood of many on her blade.

A strange thought occurred to Corman, the Valkyries were surprisingly similar to the Madrigala. The Vorseman mounted female combat force that rivaled any male cavalry. It was surprising the similarities yet, at the same time, there was such a great gap. He had seen more people in one building than had existing in his village during the growing season while most farmers, miners and patrols were on the outlying plains. At most, his village had 500 occupants when gathered together in either ceremony or celebration. It was a different world and Corman could not help but feel himself a stranger ... even among friends.

With his handful of companions that had stuck together through incredible odds, there was a great sadness to see Celeste leave, even if she promised it was a temporary change in course. Of the family he had, with the only known survivor being Anna, this gathering of companions was more than friends but family, by blood, fate and circumstance. He needed to tend to his people, but he needed the help and guidance of these fellows to gather a force capable enough to withstand such a great foe. He would not rest until they had extinguished this great evil that had rolled over his people.