#zornuth

Verdant Brink; perhaps once it has been a beautiful region. Perhaps once; but now it was devastated by the war between the two sentient forces of Tyria. Erupting from the ground, choking out the natural plant life, were the massive thorned vines of Mordremoth. In every direction as far as the eye could see were the writhing vines violent, attacking anything that dared to get too close to them.

In contrast to the weeds choking out the life of the jungle was the wreckage of the Pact fleet. High above the jungle floor, the mangled, twisted shells of massive airships were caught in the mighty branches of the canopy. Smoke still filled the air, the smell of carnage wafted down to the survivors who fought every hour to hold out against the Mordrem.

By now the war in the jungle had fallen into a pretty routine and predictable pattern. Most of the Mordrem forces were focused on attacking the Pact rally points, making travel a little easier for forces making their way between camps, or deeper into the jungle. Among these forces were the six members of the Noesis strike team, eager to push through this region to the Auric Basin where the Priory members among them had stated they would be able to secure a base of operations.

Commander Ruo Nightrend, clad in her dark, shadowy armor, her blue mane glowing like the Foefire of the hated Ghosts of Ascalon led the group through the humid, smoky area. Behind her was Zornuth Nighrage, a member of Ruo’s warband. While younger than his Commander, his attitude made him seem more mature, though he was far more tense, clutching his blade in hand as they marched.

A few steps behind were the only married couple among the force two members of the Priory, a Human and a Sylvari. Minthe LaCoria, her silvery leaves shining even in the darkness caused by smoke and the canopy above looked around, seeming distracted by everything around her. Next to her was her wife, a short Human woman by the name of Alexandria LaCoria, her own silvery hair not nearly as vibrant as the Sylvari’s.

Bringing up the rear were two Norn women. Sviennlark, looking almost as out of place with her pink hair as Ruo was with her blue, was still holding onto the most irritating and deadly thing the group had run across so far. Frosthildr, reloaded her shotgun, her blissfully pink eyes never leaving the screaming creature in Sviennlark’s grip.

“We’ve got more coming,” Ruo growled, glancing back towards Sviennlark who managed an innocent enough grin. The screaming pocket raptor in her hand was obviously calling out to others in the area. There was no time for argument as another small pack burst out from the foliage, charging the group with a high pitched, squeaking battle cry.

Used to more intense struggles, this was more of an aggressive swatting of flies. While the small creatures were vicious, they were still small and incredibly fragile. Three of them were dead as they were sent flying through the air, one by the Commanders kick and two by the broad side of Zornuth’s blade. Several more were twitching in place, stunned by a blast of electricity from Alexandria’s extended staff. Frosthildr and Minthe made quick work of them, shotgun shells and fireballs reducing the would-be attackers to much smaller pieces.

Sviennlark drew a piece of leather cord from her belt and tied it around the raptor’s muzzle. Another cord was used the restrain its clawed appendages. “There we are; that should keep it from calling any more help.”

“Thanks,” Alexandria quipped, giving the much taller woman an annoyed look. “Next time, we should silence our prisoners before they call for help. But, at least the Commander seemed to enjoy punting them.”