The lion Elves of the Crimson Plains (finally, a great chapter title!)

Their city, Alavia, was impressive, and contained nearly every member of their people, the main exceptions being those stationed at look out towers roughly surrounding the city a half mile away. Untold millennia ago their migrating ancestors had happened among this rocky place amidst the giant plains, and finding a lake in the middle, settled there. The wall alternated between natural rock formation and compacted dirt. A water moat surrounded it, filled with a sort of fanged fish-odiles. The ancient city utilized as much fertile ground as possible, the hide, leather and bone houses standing on the massive rock formations with fields of crops in between. 

     Van and Oolah were being escorted in, not as enemies, nor as allies, but as harmless curiosities. This suited them both, as it was better then being regarded as an enemy and set upon by the many capable lion elf warriors. There was a crowd wherever they went, people poking and prodding. Finally they were brought to a an empty hut, and the crowds shooed off. Inside was an atypical specimen of one of their males. He offered them food and tried to communicate with them. After they ate he endeavored to teach them their language. Oolah, who knew elfen, said the language in no way resembled it. 

      It seemed they were expected to stay here, sort of guests by force. They could wonder where they wanted, but the bridge guards halted them as they approached. They discussed just leaving, either by stealth or by force, but didn't want to leave under bad circumstances. These people didn't seem villainous, and they might have to come back this way. They were encouraged to leave their dwelling for a few hours every day, as there were always people who'd come to interact with them, or just to have a look. Otherwise they threw themselves into their language lessons to put voice to their wish to leave; To make an official declaration, so to speak, to whomever they must. They still didn't know who was in charge here. 

       Oolah was much better with languages then he, and was soon communicating basic ideas and requests. When she'd breach the topic of leaving this place, she was always met with a simple denial. It was at this point the first one they had seen on top of the plains monster returned. Her and Oolah communicated for a bit. 

      "oolahs amazing", thought Van as the two women talked together, "I can't even imagine picking up a language that fast." He had expressed that sentiment to her earlier and she laughed it off, saying it was nothing special. 

      Finally the Golden woman left and Oolah turned to Van. Smiling she said, "we can leave in the morning, but they want to send some envoys with us." Van nodded and Oolah continued, "they want to finish teaching us the language, and when we're finished with our mission, wants us to stop by, teach them our trade dialect, and show them the way home. They want to start a trade route!" 

     Van relaxed, "Finally!" he sat back, his arms behind his head.

     "That reminds me...." said Oolah, teasing, "What is it about me that has her beat?"

     Van blushed, "You know..." he trailed off. then louder and more certain, "You have become my standard of beauty." 

     Now Oolah blushed, "And yet," she said sadly, "still you reject me."

     "Oolah," said Van, I don't think it is you I am rejecting. "I think it is somehow... myself."

     She wanted to go to him; to hold him and soothe his damaged soul. But she knew, even now, he'd reject her like he'd done so many times of late. That night his nightmares were worse then usual. The next morning he picked at his food absently, not taking a bite. He wasn't distracted or unfocused, but he didn't interact with anyone except when necessary. Oolah had never felt him this dark before, but inherently knew he was no stranger to those depths. "He won't take my hand," she told herself, "All I can do at this point is be here waiting when he comes back. If he comes back."

     The Lion Elves had a sort of mount, a giant hound like creature, with giraffe like legs. They would be splashed every morning by an oil the creatures of the plain found repugnant. It was harvested from a plant Van hadn't seen yet, and from birth these great leg-hounds were acclimated to it. They rode two to a mount, two mounts abroad. In all there were four great Leg-Hounds, one as a pack animal, one for Oolah and Van, and two for the four escorts. Maffy and Coffy followed along, a sort of gauze muzzle with a sort of neutralizing scent to help them with the naturally repugnant oil. They didn't need it in any great quantities, so there wasn't much of it.

     As they traveled Oolah talked and learned from them, also beginning the process of teaching them the trade tongue. They said the Leg Hounds were capable of dangerous speeds, but were being kept to a fast walk to accommodate the accompanying pack Erlokas. Van, for his own part stayed sullen, and even somewhat angry at times. He practiced swordplay every evening without eating and barely having any water. He was beginning to look emaciated. On the third evening, in lieu of practice he walked out of camp. When one of their escorts suggested they follow him, Oolah said to leave him alone. "If he's got something to do, best to let him just do it." Silently she hoped that whatever it was would help.

    Once a respectable distance from the camp, after having to slay the first of many predators, he produced his black sword from the round handle. It glowed brilliantly without Van even consciously realizing he'd cast light on it. A black disc raised him the few feet needed to see out across the plains. The light of his sword had caught the attention of near everything within miles. Many gazed confusedly, or curiously. Others, assuming it was food, hungrily charged it. With a shout of unbridled pain and rage a wave of black liquid death radiated like a fan before him, killing everything in that direction in half a mile. He knew more was coming. He knew he wasn't finished yet. How many more had seen his light? He held it up over his head, pouring power into it so it rivaled the sun. Those that had closed the most distance to him already was momentarily blinded, stumbled and rolled. He dimmed it back to it's usual intensity, and walked slowly forward, slaughtering everything that came, with the ebon light sword.