Messatsu!
@thinnyhopper
The Koehlanna intelligence network informed Qisalor of a band of human mercenaries getting dangerously close to Rostanel’s eastern border, said border leading to the predominantly wood-elven Grand Duchy of Schom. There were whispers of a potential second invasion by King Redrick from Durtal, the kingdom on Rostanel’s western border, as if he needed to finish what he started 10 years ago.
Of course, those were rumors. But considering how the invasion a decade prior all started with rumors, Qisalor knew not to take such talk so lightly now. It was especially important to head east since there weren’t as many soldiers stationed there. Human intelligence may have suggested to Redrick that sending soldiers in a very roundabout path to Rostanel may have given them an advantage against the high elves. Rostanel hardly expected invasion from Schom, but certainly did from Durtal; the bulk of Rostanel’s military strength was stationed at the west.
With the tip she got, Qisalor set out with two squads of six Koehlanna guards to accompany her to the Rostanel-Schom border. The closer they got to the border, the more wooded the area around them became. The convoy parked off a beaten path, Qisalor and most others heading deeper into the forest. The wood elves liked to say that those forests were their direct connection to the Feywild, what with a sort of mystical, whimsical feeling associated with the very wind that passed through the trees at the border. Qisalor scoffed. Said wood elves also claimed that trying to connect with their ancestors would offer protection from enemies. The fey did nothing when the library in Fomandel burned. Whether or not the fey existed didn’t matter to her, so long as they didn’t get in her or her family’s way.
Qisalor stood at over six feet tall and had somewhat pale, fair skin. Her eyes were blue, constantly squinting either out of spite towards humans or a self-sustained sense of superiority towards other non-elves. She had a black martial arts gi, the sleeves torn not from lack of upkeep, but as a stylistic choice on her part. Her arms were uncharacteristically toned for a high elf, and her hands and wrists were adorned with short, brown leather gauntlets. She had black hair combed backward and pointed upward a bit. She had a silver headband and martial arts belt, and she carried no weapons nor wore any shoes.
“Spread out,” she told her entourage in Elvish. “If you find humans, don’t attack them. Keep them there until I arrive.”
“Do you want us to give a signal, milady?” one soldier asked her.
“I’ll know,” she answered simply.
And spread out they did, Qisalor branching out much further away from the other soldiers, cracking her knuckles in anticipation. Once she was far enough away from everyone, she sat down on the grass, legs crossed, hands folded as she began to meditate.
Four...no...five beings, all wearing heavy armor. Their chi is different from that of my soldiers, not the usual pre-battle jitters they have in moments like this. No...they’re running from something...some things...a large, collective chaotic chi coming from miles away...just outside our borders further east...
She got up and immediately ran towards the source of the disturbance. She passed by some of her soldiers, some of them asking, “Lady Qisalor, should we follow?”
She stopped back to glare at the inquiring soldier. “There are humans afoot. Do you want to join them?”
Silence.
She would continue to run for about four miles, deftly dodging the trees, stones, and cavities in the ground in the process, before seeing what her meditation notified her of.