The bracken swayed in the rough wind, sending a shower of rain into the lower regions of the forest. The Wind howled incessantly as the trees moaned eerily and shook their darkened boughs. Underneath it all, a sudden sheet of rain sloshed down into the dirt, and a dark form stirred. There was the sound of several well-chosen curses as whatever it was scurried to a place of better coverage, fighting against the pulling winds and ensnaring undergrowth. The lightning conveniently choose this moment to flash, and for an instant the moving patch of darkness was illuminated. Only briefly, but that brief flash was enough to stun Aaerial Raa'sharre senseless. She recovered quickly, however, and raced for coverage against the onslaught of rain and wind -accompanied by the many colorful curses as her search proved futile.

She finally ducked beneath a low hanging pine bough, which shielded her from some if not all of the rain. Huddling beneath her rough woolen cloak, she settled down to await the dawning of the new day. The next day loomed bright and hot, steaming the rain from the undergrowth in a miasma of fog. Birds chirped and small animals scurried through the undergrowth in an attempt to find food. Aaerial Raa'sharre awoke around midday, exhausted from last night's madcap dash into the woods. The world around her had changed, emerging from the storm afresh and new. She readjusted her cloak, checked the position of her daggers and sword, and slung the sack over her shoulder. The take from the previous night should pay for the inconvenience of moving on to avoid pursuit. She rummaged through it, looking with a jeweler’s eye at this diamond tiara and that sapphire necklace. It would keep them in food for quite some time - possibly even through the winter, if she haggled enough. Lighthearted, she began her journey through the undergrowth towards the prearranged meeting spot.

She moved with stealth and grace even when not consciously attempting to be silent. Aaerial Raa'sharre was Sadorin - a race of rogues and thieves, naturally gifted when it came to "finding" other people's lost possessions. Slightly built, they nonetheless were suprisingly strong and agile warriors. They had to be, to survive. Childhood among the Sadorin was not easy - you had to be a very quick learner to survive to adolescence. Their method of teaching was very practical - set them loose and see whether they come back or not. Many didn't - those who put a foot wrong in a Lord's home didn't live to try again. Those who did, however, were the best and the brightest - those with the luck and skill to make it in the harsh reality of life. They were the secret race. No one precisely knew where it was they called their home, no one knew where they went or how they were raised. Their long lifespan meant that they could be extremely patient - the neighbor next door could one day turn out to be the one who would rob you in front of your very eyes. They could look as all the races - except perhaps the Ech'tor - and plied their talents in the world of danger and risk.

The three races of Eldaria were the Vaughnin, who were mainly of the upper-class Rishasharae. Delighting in intrigue and secrecy they ruled the land at their whim. They were delicate, with quick minds and even quicker senses. It took skill to get past their gaze and into their strongholds. The second race was the Sach'torin, everywhere and nowhere, subtle and silent with a will as iron, the wits of a hawk, and the patience of the earth itself. They were the leading members of the Reonin, the family of those who would rather the law didn't exist and conveniently 'forgot' that it did. The last race, the Ech'tor, were faerie like. Usually about three feet to five feet high, they were speedy pranksters who delighted in game and laughter. They flew by magic and the insectile wings that protruded from their backs. Delicate and fine-boned they were the quickest race, gone before the mind even registered they were there.

One of Aaerial's partner was of the Ech'tor race. Ta'leara, a little nymph of about two and a half feet in height, she had all the wicked humor of her race, and delighted in pulling little pranks on her friends. On her enemies too, come to think of it. There was that time in Ka'cheir when they were attacked and ... Aaerial grinned in spite of herself. Sometimes Ta'leara was a little much to handle - such as her habit of awakening her partners at all hours of the morning... nothing like a cheerfully hovering pixie at three in the morning to make one think of homicide. Ta'leara was too good-natured for them to really harm her, though. There was something about her, a cheerful delight in the world that could make her a joy to be around, when she wasn't pulling those ingenious little tricks of hers. She was at least as good a pickpocket as Aaerial, though she wasn't a very good housetheif and was at a severe disadvantage against opponents stronger than her. Against a small wolf or perhaps a large rabbit she could prevail, but she was just too small, even with the advantages of maneuverability too really make it in a fight. She'd just sort of joined up with Aaerial after Aaerial had saved her from someone's bullyboys, and Aaerial had never had any real reason for objecting to her presence.

The other member of their little trio was another Eldarian named Kelzeth. His speech indicated a noble birth, though he never talked of his past. She figured that he was probably one of the only surviving members of a raid on a royal estate. While that kind of thing didn't happen anymore, it had only stopped in the last thirty years or so as the Rishasharae realized they were killing themselves off. For all his

mannerisms, he was a fairly good hand in the woods and an ace with his sword. It was an ancient one, brilliant in the morning light as the sun reflected the jewels and gold in the hilt. Just that sword alone screamed of a royal birth, though she'd checked it for magic the first night while he was asleep and it had checked out clean. While a good Reonin, and she prided herself on being one of the best, should always be able to sneak away from a fight, his sword had still come in handy on many occasions. She was only on par with her own weapon, the two-bladed-sword. Between herself and Ta'leara they could account for about a colony of killer rabbits, should they ever come across such a thing. But even the best rogues had to fight sometimes - it was better than being followed everywhere, grudge-holders being what they were. So their little group had formed, and so far they got along just fine. She'd probably have to leave them eventually - even the best of friends get suspicious of someone who visibly doesn't age. And distancing herself from others was how she had survived these past centuries without drowning in grief. It was good while it lasted, though, and they were having rather a lucky streak at present. Time enough to think of the future later.