The caravan comes into view soon enough, as it's starting to get towards evening. This is a narrow valley and a poor road, forcing the wagons to trail out of their bunched up caravan - an area rife with good ambush spots, when the caravan's at its weakest, its guards spread thin and tired from a full day's travel. They'll be pinned between her forces and the river...

Or, apparently, her forces and the other force that noticed this is a really, really good ambush spot.

A tiger - white, something about her fur (definitely her, this tiger is familiar, Luc knows her - ) shimmering oddly - jumps down in front of the lead wagons, stretching languidly.

And starting a panic, of course, leaving a brief moment of vulnerability as the guards try to reshuffle and beasts panic and the front of the caravan comes to a screeching halt without informing the rear of this -

The tiger laughs and leaps forward, moving like the wind through scattering leaves.

Somebody else appears to be causing chaos in the rear.

...That tiger...

Her hesitation lasts a bare moment before the same instincts that are flaring about the tiger remind her not to waste an opportunity like this when it's handed to her on a silver platter. She signals her forces to attack, splitting in half to hit both front and rear guards from their backs. She leaps out, her long silvery whip flashing out to wrap around the nearest unfortunate. As she pulls on it to direct her landing, the coils tighten and the raised bumps of metal along its length slice cleanly through padded armor and into flesh. Her target falls screaming, and she shakes out her weapon to seize the next.

The tiger carves a bloody, laughing path through the guards and slave-drivers, leaving the slaves themselves untouched (cowering, afraid, but uninjured).

Her gaze flicks to Luc, and she pauses for a moment in the battle - then a guard tries to rebuild their formation, and she's off again, easily batting away enemies as her own forces - a motley mix, some of them clearly wyld-tainted or clearly from closer to the elemental pole of wood than here but most from the same ethnic groups as the slaves - work on establishing defensive perimeters around the slaves, keeping them away from the slaughter - and from fleeing into the woods. They move well, in clear, drilled formation, at odds with their shabbier gear.

She barks commands at her forces so that they continue to focus on the armed resistance and leave the others to protecting the slaves. It's better that way, anyway.

She circles the battle herself, staying on the other side from the tiger. All the better to crush the enemy, if they face Exalt-level aggression wherever they try to turn.

The fight goes almost pitifully easily, and blood soaks the worn wagon tracks, and the dirt churns into mud, bodies scattered around - almost entirely of the slavers. The tiger's been protective of her forces.

She calls out a few commands in one of the forest tongues, as the battle concludes, and her people smoothly turn to divvying themselves between making sure every slaver lies dead and freeing the slaves of their chains.

The tiger paces up to Luc, then.

"You fight well," she calls, tilting her head and eyeing Luc.

"So do you. For a tiger."

She snorts.

"Thanks for the help. Made this a much cleaner and quicker operation."

"Though I'm curious what brought you here...?"

"More or less the same thing as you, I think." She nods at the slaves. "No one who isn't in the Guild very much likes them."

"Fair, though I haven't heard of you operating around here."

"I have infrastructure nearby - guides to get them to where they want to go, places they can settle away from the Guild."

"I've been moving around. Haven't been in the area too long. If they'd rather go with you than go home, your place is probably closer than mine."

She nods. "My people usually handle the logistics at this point; I'll talk to anyone who needs it, and I'll swing by later to make sure they arrive okay, but my time's usually better used elsewhere."

"No rest for the wicked." She finishes coiling up the whip and clips it back onto the leather belt clinching her loose robes.

"Heh."

"You're - very interesting. I'd like to get to know you."

"Far be it from me to tell a five hundred pound tiger who she's allowed to follow."

Her ears relax a bit. It's hard to read her expression, but she's probably amused. "I could just stalk you," she says, teasingly. "Talking seems more polite, though."

"I agree." She starts heading over to where the former slaves are gathered.

The tiger stalks along beside her.

The slaves seem wary, but the tiger's people have been reassuring them. They seem to take the tiger for a spirit - probably reasonable, and the tiger encourages that impression, giving a (rather rehearsed and stirring) speech about their newfound freedom and their choices: to return to where they came from (which she will not begrudge them) or to join her, and free others who have been so plagued, and build a new life for themselves under her protection and guidance.

The tiger, also, finally introduces herself, as Shimmering Wyldclaw.

The speech is effective - people's backs straighten as she praises their bravery and endurance, and a fervor enters their eyes as she dangles the idea of perhaps hope, perhaps ambition, perhaps revenge in front of them. No one openly contradicts her.

She detaches herself from the tiger before the speech happens, and circulates between smaller groups, quietly asking where they've come from, what they lost, if they wish they could have been faster, stronger, better with a sword, if they want that now, to help survive, to take revenge...

(She can't be too obvious, with this probably-Lunar right there. Two or three of the most promising is all she'll spend the essence on, with an extra smile or laugh or touch to help fix her in their minds.)

The most promising are all also listening to the tiger; seems like they'll be among the followers she peels away (which is most of the slaves; only a few want to return home, and some of them are inspired enough to want to move their families into the tiger's protection).

Shimmering Wyldclaw doesn't comment on Luc's movements, but does see to the start of her people taking over logistics fully.

She pads over to Luc once her tasks are done. "Have you spoken to everyone you'd like to?" she asks, idly.

"Yes, I think so."

"I'd like to keep moving, then." Languid stretch. "If you trust your forces enough to leave them at loose ends - I can travel much faster than a human on foot, and carry a passenger."

"They live near enough where some of those who wish to return do. I will send them as an escort."

"Alright."

She nods, and goes to give the orders before returning.

"Where do you intend to go?"

"I have some stashes scattered here or there; one of them would be a good place to talk, and there's one relatively near some routes I was planning to raid later."

"Well enough."

"How do you feel about riding a war hawk, then?"

"That'll be a new one. I've always wondered what flying is like."

She laughs -

And turns into a brown hawk about the size of a horse, fluttering her new wings. Faint silver stripes trace through the brown - noticeable only from some angles. They converge into a crescent moon on her forehead.

Definitely a Lunar.

"Pretty. Where do I, ah, hang on?"

"Sit on my back and put your arms around my neck." Teasingly: "I'll try not to drop you."

"Thank you for your consideration." She mounts the hawk's back delicately.

And she takes off, winging northeast, deeper into the woods. The flight's about fifteen, twenty minutes, mostly smooth, and she's soon alighting on a large tree branch next to a bower tucked into the tree - nearly invisible from everywhere else. The hawk walks sideways over to a platform large enough for Luc to slide off onto.

She does so.

"Cute place," she says, looking around. "Cozy."

And the hawk turns into a woman! She looks western, a bit incongruously - lithe and wiry, with brown skin and dark purple hair that tumbles freely down her back and bright green eyes. Her clothes are a soft weave under finely cared for leathers and furs, cut to show off her swirling tattoos - the breastplate design apparent on the hawk is still present, but now it's joined by filigree swirls and subtle tiger stripes, all in a gleaming silver.

"It is! And convenient for stashing bandages, dried food, water..." She gestures at some pots and well secured chests. "Help yourself if you want anything."

She lounges on one little bench that looks designed equally for humans (at least, those not afraid of heights - there's a sharp drop behind her) and big cats, grinning at Luc.

"Don't think I got your name, by the way."

"Elucidation of Immanent Will. But you can call me Luc'."

"Luc', then. I'm Wyld - or Shimmering Wyldclaw when I'm trying to be fancy."

"Are you often?"

"Mostly just when giving speeches."

"I noticed. You did a good job of perking them up."

"Heh. Thanks. You did well, too, talking to people individually."

She tilts her head back a bit.

"I feel - like you're the most interesting person I've ever met, I'm curious and excited - like obviously there's more to find out about you..."

Chipper: "Which! Obviously not very natural, that!" She grins at Luc'. It's not a very safe grin. "Do you feel it too?"

"Not... quite. I feel like I know you from somewhere."

"Huh."

"Are you a solar?"

Here's hoping she doesn't have any truth detection up.

"Yes."

She doesn't seem to, nor does she seem to see through Luc's lie mundanely.

"I'm a lunar."

"That seems to suggest something."

"It does!"

"Have you heard about the bonds between solars and lunars?"

"Only in vague terms. There haven't been appreciable numbers of either in close contact for thousands of years."

"The thing I heard was that the Unconquered Sun demanded the lunars be made subordinate to the solars, so they couldn't ever rebel, and that this be enforced by a bond between them. Luna smiled, and agreed - each lunar would be bound to exactly one solar, and their passions inflamed."

"Nothing, of course, about the other two hundred and ninety nine solars they weren't bonded to, or about what those passions are..." She grins.

"...Mildly ominous."

She snorts. "I don't think anything came of it. Every old lunar I've met swears none of the First Age lunars had anything to do with the Usurpation."

"Well they would, wouldn't they? Since it also resulted in them getting kicked to the edge of Creation."

"Some of them would probably declare it a learning experience if they had."

Luc' laughs.

"Have you met any other exalts yet?"

"Does fighting a couple dragonborn count?"

"Only a little."

"Well, there you go. I guess you've met lots."

"Only other lunars, but only some of them are interesting."

"That's a pity."

"Not like you."

"Well, no. I'm not a Lunar, after all."

"No. Not at all."

"Where are you from?"

"Southern desert. Wrong side of the mountains from the Lap."

She nods. "I don't know as much about out there - I was born in the West. Some shitty little island as far as I know. Don't remember it, though."

"Why come all the way out here?"

"I could ask you the same thing."

"Used to be a slave. Happened to be in the east when I escaped."

"Oh. I killed some people. Maybe more than some. Found it prudent to start walking, and haven't really found a good reason to stop."

"Maybe I can show you a few."

"Maybe. It has been a while since I've had to shake a bounty hunter."

"Shaking bounty hunters is something I'm good at. I try to avoid leaving anyone who'll tattle alive, but rumors spread anyways."

"I can't say as I've heard of you."

"Good; I'm trying to keep a low profile, after all... At least for now."

"Big plans?"

"Of course. Picking at the edges of slavery is a good start."

"Are you planning to push further into Creation? Some of your followers looked wyld-tainted."

"Those are mostly my earlier followers, though sometimes I still rescue people from the wyld. And, yes, especially as I build up my following and all. Hard to end slavery if I stay in my little corner."

"That'll be tough going."

"I'm prepared for it to take a while, be difficult, and face frequent setbacks. I refuse to turn aside, though."

"I like your attitude."

"Oh?"

"Your drive, determination... casual sweeping away of any obstacles."

"Some of my many good qualities."

"I'll have to keep an eye out for the others."

"And I'll watch for yours. I've already got pretty, a good fighter, a good leader, and ruthless..."

"Surely that covers most of it."

"I dunno. You seem like someone with myriad good qualities."

Smirk.

Cute.

"We could sit here talking all day... I like talking to you. But we could also go find some raiders to have fun killing... If you feel like joining me."

"I'd like that."

"Good! Fighting alongside you is fun."

She stretches, languidly, then stands.

"Unless we run into some raksha - unlikely this close to the Hundred Kingdoms - it'll probably be mostly easy pickings for today. Means we can afford to play with our food some, though."

"Sounds good."

"Up for another ride, then?"

"Yeah."

Then: she ducks out to the platform, turns into a war hawk, and crouches down so Luc' can get on.

On she gets, wrapping her arms around Wyld's neck.

And: off! The land falls away beneath them, and Wyld wings west and north. Her goal is less slave caravans now, more the infrastructure that supports them - and they're rather close.

Wyld drops them just out of sight of a walled caravansary, smoothly turning back to human once Luc' slides off.

She whistles something - a native bird call, it sounds like.

"Signalling someone?" she asks quietly.

"Somewhat."

There's an answering call, long and warbling. Nothing out of the ordinary for these woods. Still, Wyld listens intently.

"They've got guards at both gates along the roads, and scattered a few places inside and along the wall. Well equipped, but not well disciplined. Their shifts have been boring, so their vigilance is low, and they're apparently not used to operating in the East. There's two groups staying there; the lightly armored ones are planning to meet up with some tribes they have working with them to capture slaves. The others are just spice traders. I want to leave both groups of merchants alive for now - the first to question, so we don't need them all, but the second to decide what to do with - and kill the guards. We won't have backup."

"That's kind of a lot for pre-arranged signals."

"It's closer to a language."

"Talking with animals?"

"Ata-beasts. They're smart. Moreso than humans, sometimes."

"Not saying much, depending on the human."

She laughs. "These ones aren't very." She gestures toward the caravansary. "Still, I feel like putting on a little show for them..."

"What kind of show?"

"Give them a reason to fear us before we kill them."

"I'm in favor."

"Let's get started, then."

She grins, darkly, and starts stalking toward the gate, still in her human form.

No plan, then. Hell, it's only mortals. To the gate.

The guards call on them to identify themselves before shooting, at least, calling reinforcements up to the gate -

Which seems to be their mistake.

Wyld smiles, and her expression shifts, flashing into fangs and sharp feral lines - it's fundamentally, incredibly, deeply terrifying. Light dances across her skin, shadows cloaking her to hide her identity.

Most of the guards fall to their knees. Only one remains standing, eyes wide, body shaking as pleas start falling from her lips.

"I think you want to let us in!" Wyld calls, cheerfully. "I might get angry if you don't."

Oh that's hot.

The woman left standing opens the gate, shakily. One of the guards tries to challenge this - and then Wyld glances at him, and he abruptly changes to 'oh gods please don't hurt me - '

"Good pet," Wyld says to the one who opened the gate. "I'll let you live, how about?" She stalks forward, maintaining her grace and unnerving expression.

Her charm doesn't seem to have the same effect on new people - the guards who hadn't seen her initially are arraying themselves into a defensive formation, guards with longbows on the walls and swords on the ground - and even among the terrified, the less obedient guards try to get their weapons up.

Luc' casually unclips her whip, holding it loosely in her right hand for a moment before sending it snapping out to slice the nose clean off one of the nearby guard's face.

He screams and falls back!

Wyld laughs and launches herself forward, drawing knives and getting up close with the guards, dancing among them. She's faster than them, and dodges all of their blows with an easy grace, answering clumsy sword thrusts and slashes with slit throats - or arms or ribs or arteries nicked just enough to be deadly and messy but not instantly fatal.

Luc' keeps the guards at more of a distance, whip flickering all about and snatching arrows out of the air or swords from fists as often as it leaves bright red lacerations across faces or chests or arms.

Wyld leaves the one who'd opened the gate alive - and the raiders who rush out - but turns the caravansary's guards into a bloody, dying mess.

Subduing the raiders Wyld wants alive isn't very difficult, at least.

"Well, that was fun!" She grins toothily at one of the living raiders. He doesn't seem to agree with her.

"It was," Luc' agrees.

"Now! I'd quite like to know which tribes are helping these assholes," she says to Luc', gesturing at the raiders, "As well as details about their routes, their backers, who they interact with at various points, code words, who has the most authority here or there... Do you feel like doing some interrogations of your own, or just watching me work?"

"It's not precisely my area of expertise. Maybe once you've softened them up a little."

"Then I'll show you the ropes."

She smiles at her victims, stepping forward and addressing them first as a group - targeting their unit cohesion, apparently, their sense of morality, their fear of her - she doesn't lay a single finger on them, not at first, just talks, light dancing across her skin. It seems to be unnerving them, at least, and she zeroes in on one whose expression twitches in a certain way - then easily separates the others, binding and cowing them so she can focus on just one.

She doesn't physically torture the first one - whispers in his ear, drags her fingers down his cheek - he doesn't hold for long, and she gets the tribes they were going to meet out of him.

She breaks his neck, casts him into a side room, and drags another out. This - the most stubborn of the group - she tells about the first's betrayal, and claims she set him free. The woman refuses to give, spitting on the first's name -

Wyld makes this one scream, and leaves the body in plain sight for the next two raiders. She gets better information from them, but piecemeal - and takes her time with them, explaining idly what she's doing to Luc' after each - the speech to weaken their bonds to each other, the first's quiet interrogation to engender a sense of betrayal and futility in the others, the separation and delays to make them nervous, the second's torture to ramp up their fear... Against people trained to resist interrogation, this might usually take a while, but these people's wills are weak...

The last and fifth raider sees the blood splattered around and immediately breaks.

Wyld smiles, listening patiently, and says, "I'll let you run, how about, and give you a chance to get away. You'll have a fifteen minute head start before I come after you," patting the girl's cheek.

The girl nods, face pale with fear, and stumbles to her feet once Wyld cuts her bonds, running out the gate on shaky legs.

Wyld laughs, and glances back at Luc'. "Got more than I was hoping for."

"Not bad."

She laughs, happy.

"I'm going to try to dedicate hunting the one who ran off to Luna. Takes fifteen minutes to see if she accepts. If she does, I'll have to do the actual hunt on my own..." She stares at the sky, thinking. "Might want to decide what to do with our survivors first."

"I can deal with them, if you'd prefer to focus on your hunt."

"Sure. But I do want that guard who helped us so kindly alive at the end, preferably without too much of a grudge against me."

(At this point, the only other survivors are the second merchant group, who've barricaded themselves into one of the rooms.)

"I'll see what I can do about that."

"Thanks."

She walks to a space clear of blood, where she can see the sky, and starts praying.

Luc' goes over to the surviving guard.

Surviving guard has not gone very far! She's sitting with her back against a wall, successfully not hyperventilating but still looking pretty pale and nauseous. Her gaze snaps from 'definitely not looking at all the torture' to Luc' and her breath skips a bit.

She puts on a smile.

"I imagine you're feeling somewhat ragged."

Quick little nod. "Yes - yes ma'am - please don't hurt me - "

"Oh come now, I don't want to hurt you. I want to help you."

She bites her lip, looking confused. "How - so?"

"Haven't you ever wished to be better than you are?"

"...Yes."

"Ask me."

" - Can you make me better?"

"Do you want to be stronger? Smarter? More skilled with your sword, more beautiful? Any of these I can grant you, for such is my power."

"Braver," she says, like a curse.

"Then so it shall be." She places her hand on the woman's head (not strictly necessary but there's a time and place for dramatic gestures) and lets the essence flow into her. A silver hourglass appears on Luc's forehead.

The woman's eyes widen a bit, and she takes a deep, sharp breath.

Luc' crouches down to whisper in her ear.

"Do not forget who gave you these gifts."

"I won't," she says, voice firmer than before.

"There's a good girl." She leans back. "Now, what's your name?"

"Jade Stream."

"That's a lovely name. I am Elucidation of Immanent Will."

She nods.

" - Thank you."

She smiles, and caresses Jade's cheek.

Shiver. Not entirely from fear, though.

"Tell me about the merchants hiding in that room over there."

"I don't know much. Just - they were going in the opposite direction to us, heading back to Eight Gems. Keep to themselves, drink a lot, but aren't too loud."

"Thank you, sweetie." She pats her head. "You stay right here for now."

Slow nod. "I will."

"Good girl."

Then it's over to knock on the door.

Conspicuous silence for a moment, then a rustle, and a male merchant (not too wealthy, but still better off than most) opens the door with the most obsequious grin possible on his face. "How may I help you, my lady?" he says, voice a bit pinched.

She kicks him in the stomach, sending him flying back into the room. She follows him inside.

"Rejoice," she says, "for I have come among you."

That gets her a lot of fear and scrambling and pleading for lives!

"Kneel," she says, one word cutting through the clamor.

They do, hastily. A few even kowtow.

She runs an assessing eye over the assemblage with her coadjutor whispering in her mind, scanning for the telltale signs of demon cultists.

Nope, nope, nope - no - definitely not - still no.

Looks like a total absence of identifiable demon cultists.

Eh, always a long shot.

"You are at least intelligent enough to obey. Know that at the first sign of defiance your life will be snuffed as a candle flame. Do any of you wish to test this?"

They shake their heads, and a few say 'no ma'am!' in choked voices.

"Good. All material wealth that you carry, coin, jewelry, trinket, place it on the ground before me."

They rush to comply.

She might spot that one leaves something small in an inner pocket of hers.

Her whip is out in a flash, wrapped around the offender's neck.

"See the price of defiance," she says, and pulls the whip tight.

Choked scream! The woman scrabbles at her neck, trying to get a hold on the whip to pull it away.

She's welcome to cut her hands to ribbons as Luc' slowly increases the pressure. When she finally flicks the whip away, it reveals a broken, bloody mess where her throat used to be.

The woman gasps, eyes rolling into the back of her head, and passes out, body collapsing as soon as the whip stops holding it up.

She bends over to fish the whatever out of her pocket.

An old ring; not even particularly fancy, though it's certainly worth something, with a name on the inner band.

Sentimental, perhaps.

She trusts the others have adequately taken the example?

They seem to! No one's holding anything back.

Good.

"Now, who wants to explain to me what your business in this corner of Creation is?"

Some hesitation.

Glare.

One of them starts babbling! They're spice traders, really, bringing modern goods out to the farther reaches of the forest in exchange for high value herbs, medicines, and spices that don't grow well in plantations or outside of the eastern forests.

Is that really all?

They also trade information. Sometimes. To the Guild. And sometimes carry messages that're going along their route anyways. But it's usually not worth as much as the spices.

Are they carrying any information or messages this time?

They were outgoing; they're not carrying any back with them, though, and their trip was boring until now.

Hmm. And who have they been trading with?

The Guild, some individual towns in the Hundred Kingdoms, and some specific isolated towns, villages, and hamlets outside of there, and an assortment of tribes.

They won't be trading with the Guild again. If they make it back.

Of course! They understand entirely!

They had best be sure they do.

Now up, and outside.

They obey, meekly.

Wyld's gone when Luc' emerges.

Even odds on whether she kills them if they run into her out there.

"The gate is there." She points. "Go west. If I can still see you in thirty seconds, or if I see you again before Calibration, I will kill you."

They break into a run!

They successfully get out of her sight within the thirty seconds.

Hah.

Is Jade Stream still where she left her?

Yes, or nearby at least. She's glancing out the Eastern gate, looking pensive.

"I hope you're not thinking about running away from me."

"No. The other one - said something."

"What was it?"

"That I could return to the Guild with my tail between my legs, and she wouldn't stop me, or I could be part of something - bigger."

"It would be a shame for you to waste yourself."

"...Yeah. She offered me a place. More training." Jade is watching Luc's reactions carefully.

"Tsk. Not good enough for you, am I?"

"Are you offering me a job, too?"

"Less a job and more a... vocation. And not one that requires you to abandon the entirety of the civilization you know."

Her attention's keen. "What?"

"A priest, to spread my glory."

"...Out of my usual wheelhouse."

She laughs.

"I would hardly have offered if it weren't. I require... clear perspectives."

Small smile. "I've - never been anyone exceptional."

"'Exceptional' is something you create for yourself. But you must seize it when the chance comes."

"I - guess so."

"I'd like a chance..."

Luc' caresses her cheek.

"There is a small village, about three days southwest. When we're finished here, and you still want this, go there and find a man named Bark. He will show you the next step on the path."

Shiver.

"Yes ma'am."

"Good girl." She grabs her hand. "Now come with me."

Luc' pulls her to the building where the merchants were hiding and gestures at the pile of jewelry. "Anything you want, you may take."

Her breath catches a little when Luc' takes her hand, and she obediently follows.

She gazes at the pile of jewellery with a keen eye, glancing only briefly at the dead woman. "Do you want me to wear this sort of thing?" she asks, tone dubious.

"An accent or two on a woman of taste heightens her beauty. But moreover, you can sell or trade them. I will not make you start from nothing."

She blushes a little. "Most of this would be a liability in a fight..." Still, she selects an understated ring and a tasteful cloak pin. She doesn't seem to actually have a keen instinct for fashion, though her selections for things to sell shows a better understanding of trade value.

Luc' smiles indulgently.

Small, hesitant - almost shy - smile.

"What next, ma'am?"

"Next- I'd say we have some time to kill. So why don't you show me somewhere nice to sit, and we can make ourselves comfortable."

She thinks. "The nicest is the quarters reserved for very well-paying merchants."

She leads the way, to a - well, not fancy, not by city standards, but certainly far more elegant room than the others, with a thick rug and a small fountain with colorful tiles on one wall and comfortable chairs. It's cooler in here, and the forest's noises are muffled. She remains standing until Luc' sits or commands her otherwise.

Luc' sprawls over one of the chairs, and pats her lap for Jade Stream to join her.

Slightly wide eyes!

Jade walks over, sitting sideways in Luc's lap, gaze not quite fully meeting Luc's.

Luc' puts an arm over her shoulder and leans in close.

"Are you comfortable?" she murmurs.

Shiver.

"I wouldn't quite say that, ma'am." She leans a bit closer, too, voice soft.

Luc' laughs, and kisses her.

!!!! Mmmmmmmmm!!!!

Jade kisses her back, muscles relaxing.

Smug Luc'.

She wants to see how far she can push Jade before Wyld gets back.

Rather far! Jade shows hesitancy a few times, but submits to Luc's will whenever Luc' pushes.

Wyld shows back up an hour later, leaning in the doorway, blood covering her mouth and chin and hands and some of her chest, licking her fingers clean, surveying the scene with amusement - and no small amount of interest.

"You can go rinse yourself off before you think about doing anything else."

She laughs.

"Sure, if you'd rather." And, with a jaunty wave, she goes to find a water pump.

"Let's get you ready," she says to Jade, and begins prodding her into proper kneeling posture.

Jade shivers again - she seems a bit wary around Wyld still - but obediently kneels.

Luc' pats her head soothingly while they wait.

That does seem to help quite a bit.

Wyld returns in short order, squeaky clean and completely topless.

"Blood wouldn't come out of my shirt," she says idly, tone a bit impish. "Now what have we here?"

"This is Jade Stream. Jade, this is Shimmering Wyld. Say hello."

"Hello!" Jade breathes out, eyes wide and voice thready.

"Oh hello," Wyld purrs. "So you've chosen who you'll belong to, hm?"

Jade nods, rapidly, glancing at Luc'.

Possessive pet.

She smiles at Wyld.

"I don't suppose you're in the mood to share, Luc'?"

"Maybe for a while, if you ask nicely."

She saunters up to Luc', and, leaning in, murmurs, "Pretty please may I play with your toy? I promise I won't make too big a mess."

"I will be most disappointed if you do. Very well, then."

"Oh, good."

She turns a feral grin on Jade, who whimpers a bit, then forces herself to straighten her spine and not flinch as Wyld leans over, brushing a finger down her cheek.

"Gently now."

"I won't break her either!" Wyld says, teasingly, wrapping a hand around the back of Jade's neck and pushing her down slowly. Wyld's attention seems more focused on Luc' than her toy.

Luc' smirks and settles back.

Wyld puts on a bit of a show for Luc'. Not making any mess, as promised, but still pushing Jade quite a bit.

(Jade is definitely still scared of Wyld, but she does gradually relax as nothing too horrible happens.)

Luc' enjoys watching rather thoroughly.

She beckons Jade Stream back over to her side when Wyld's finished.

Jade obeys, quivering and clearly tired.

She pets her hair, somewhat absently, looking at Wyld.

"Very nice."

Jade whines a bit.

"I certainly had fun."

"I'm glad."

Happy hum.

"Today's been really good." She stretches, languid. "Oh, and speaking of good - look what I can do now!"

And she smoothly turns into the raider she'd let go to hunt earlier, still grinning.

"Oh, how useful."

Back to her Wyld face.

"I know. Shapes are fun to get, too."

"Messy, though."

"I don't mind some mess."

"Clearly."

She laughs, then: "We spent longer here than I'd planned originally, and daylight's fading... What would you like to do next?"

"We might as well stay the night."

"I suppose it's cozy enough here, yeah."

"And there should be plenty of seasoning to make dinner with. I ran the spice merchants off without letting them take anything."

"That'll be a treat."

"Let's go find something to eat, then." She pats Jade. "You stay here."

Jade nods, settling in to a comfortable kneel.

Then she and Wyld can go hunting. Possibly literally, depending on what sort of supplies got left behind.

Plenty of foods meant for the road in the merchants' quarters. More dried and preserved food for the guards, though leaning towards things that store well in barrels or crates. Not much fresh, though it seems the guards have been supplementing their meals with hunting and foraging in the forest.

"I don't suppose you have a charm to pull fresh game into our laps?"

She laughs. "No, but I know how to hunt. And non-ritual hunts are pretty quick."

"Need any help with that?"

"Nah, not really."

"I'll stay here then, and get things ready for your return."

"Alright. See you."

And, without actually bothering to go find her shirt or anything, she heads off into the woods.

Pff. Lunars.

Luc' goes to gather up other ingredients and sides and generally prepare for cooking.

Wyld's back much sooner than the last time, with a medium-small animal. Looks like enough for two, or three if they're not much in the mood for meat.

Then they can have a reasonable dinner. Luc' takes pleasure in feeding Jade Stream from her own plate.

Jade really likes that!

Wyld turns out to not be very hungry, too (she smirks a bit when she says that), sprawling in her chair and picking at her plate of mostly lighter foods.

More for Luc', then.

Wyld's appreciative of the food she does eat.

"I like you," Wyld says. "We should keep working together, at least sometimes."

"That would be nice. I wouldn't mind seeing more of you."

"You'll have trouble getting rid of me."

"I'll not try, then. I hate wasting effort."

"Good. Efficiency is important, after all."

"Where are you bound after this?"

"Hm... I want to start consolidating my territory and seriously pressing the Guild. I've been raiding a slave caravan here or there for quite a while. Soon - I'll be at the tipping point where they're going to hear of me no matter what."

"I'm going to preempt those rumours."

"How do you intend to introduce yourself?"

"Current idea - there's some outlying towns that're slave plantations supported by a few shops. I'm going to seize one, and if my army performs well and we consolidate territory quickly I'll keep moving to the others. Get my foot in the door, get myself a larger population to work with, start building an army on more than scraps."

"Not a bad plan, as long as you have enough time to prepare before the retaliation. I suppose you'll pick places with slaves that actually want to be freed."

"That - and I'm planning to start with somewhere I can retreat from easily with some gains still intact if I'm wrong about their response times and strengths. Turn it from a conquest into a raid. And I might want to infiltrate them some now that I can, figure out more about local strengths and weaknesses and dispositions."

"I may be able to help with that. I have a few contacts, from my wanderings."

"That'd be a big help, yeah. I'd like that."

"I'll see what I can have dug up, then."

"Thanks."

"Of course."

She ducks her head, smiling, then yawns a bit.

"Shall we retire for the evening?"

"Sure."

Then it's off to find some beds.

Wyld pulls some blankets and pillows from across the compound into a large pile and turns into a tiger, flopping and apparently promptly falling asleep.

She doesn't move before morning unless disturbed.

Luc' doesn't unless they're attacked.

The next morning, after breakfast - "I figure we can keep in touch with messengers pretty easily?"

"If you're findable, off the edge of the map."

"Maybe we can use one of my bird folk. That'll be faster than a runner, anyways."

"Probably, yeah."

"Probably I'll want to send you a hawk, not a songbird..."

"I'm likely to be in or around towns, not off in the middle of nowhere."

"Hawks can be found even in cities, though they're not as common... Also depends on how far apart we end up, I suppose..."

"I can just try making friends with any bird that shows an interest in me."

She laughs. "Hm, I wonder if that boy I had spying is still around... Might be good to start with someone you can send my way..."

"If it would be easier to them to find you than me, yes."

She whistles, long and high, and, after a little while, a bird flies over.

There's some sing-song chatter back and forth, then: "He'll go with you to carry messages. He understands the Forest-tongues but can't speak them, but you'll probably want to send him with a scroll or something anyways. Messenger birds are common locally, so that should go unremarked."

"That works."

"Good."

"He'll be able to forage for himself, even in cities."

"I'm fairly sure I'll be sending him back before I reach a city."

"I'd be disappointed if you didn't."

Smile.

"I'll make it a promise, then."

Heeeeeee.

"I'll hold you to it."

She hums.

"A kiss for luck, then?"

"Well, it wouldn't do to leave you luckless..." She leans in, tilting her head towards Luc'.

Firm kiss.

Firm kiss back! Wyld makes an appreciative noise.

Mmmkiss. She really is very distracting.

Wyld seems to strive for that! And to find Luc' distracting in turn.

Eventually, alas, they'll have to break away. Else they'll never get anything else done.

A real pity. Still, gives them something to look forward to, next time they meet.

Indeed it does. Until then.

Luc' clicks her fingers at Jade Stream, and sets off west.

Jade Stream follows, as Wyld laughs and heads out east.

... and I can only hope my absence vexes you as much. A burden shared is a burden halved, as is said.

I will bore you no further with descriptions of my most recent travel, for it was without incident. I write to you now from the table of one of my contacts, who I think will be receptive to helping expand my influence. Tomorrow (or perhaps the day after, depending how much rest I allow Jade Stream this night) I will investigate further. If your messenger cannot find me here, tell them to look south, as that is the direction I intend to go next.

Yours in health (and yet with luck remaining),

Elucidation of Immanent Will

...I find myself often turning to speak to you, to share some comment or observation or ask your opinion. The distance seems oddly long, and my dalliances seem rather less interesting without you here...

...My people have freed a few small groups of slaves - those taken as war captives have been our latest target. While I do need to shore up my existing forces and settlements, frequent raids are good for morale...

...I calculated how quickly that raider could have gotten back to civilization, and took her role for a time - I'm not particularly skilled at lying, I'll admit, but the border guards were gullible - this is why my message is delayed, as I had to spend some time on that. Those merchants you drove off have been refusing to speak of us, apparently out of superstition, so I claimed we were attacked by bandits from the woods - got the local garrison to bleed off some of its strength in pursuing, and led them into a rather amusing ambush. It gave me a good sense of their equipment and training, and how quickly they expect help to come. I'm hoping they'll send out a few more expeditions against these "bandits"...

...If you can, a name, description, and anything helpful to taking over the life of someone well placed would be much appreciated. It'll be far easier for me if I can open the gates as my army approaches... An ideal target would have no local family and few friends, of course, and I do find I prefer women...

Yours in tooth and claw and all the luck we make ourselves,

Shimmering Wyldclaw

...and due to the recent storms I found it prudent to take shelter in buildings of more sturdy construction, unfortunate as it is that these tend to be found in larger groupings. At these times I miss the desert. Did I wish to live in water, I would have gone west, and grown gills besides. This is no way to live. I would prefer an honest sandstorm, and never mind that we used to stake out criminal to be flayed alive in them...

...Word of your wildlings is indeed spreading, though the details in the marketplace are confused at best. My favorite version was the tiger grown twelve feet tall, woven of the dreams of lesser cats by a raksha lord, whose claws rend flesh like rice paper and whose bellow shatters the trees. I have spoken with some Guild factors and convinced them these rumors are simply rumors, and represent no real dangers. Or at least, that their best interests lie in pretending matters are so. Their convoys will continued as scheduled, with no extra guards, for your convenience.

...enclosed also a map of the area, if you will forgive my scribbles. Those towns I have marked with a star I believe are ripe for plucking. I have begun to instruct my agents to cooperate with you if you should appear, and so ask that you do your best to spare any dwellings with a splash of silver or white above the door. Those friendless and alone are rarely in a place to open gates, but a resident of a marked dwelling will provide whatever aid you wish given the phrases "five days' journey" and "green growth from bottomless dust" in conjunction. And I do mean whatever aid, though I prefer you leave them alive and in a position yet to serve me.

Yours in conspiracy,

Elucidation of Immanent Willl

...The storms, at least, provide good cover, so our successes lately have been great... My chief concern is that the humidity is rather terrible for my fur...

...Luna has, unfortunately, so far declined to bless me with the ability to share my forms, so infiltration is less of a useful tactic than I had initially thought. I want to accompany each of my forces, but I think I can afford to spread my people out and hit the towns in quick succession, especially with the information provided by your agents...

I think we'll be ready to move soon. Do you want to join me? I do think I could do with a refresher on our luck.

Yours in conquest,

Shimmering Wyldclaw

Now that I've had time to move some pieces into place, I can run my network almost as effectively while away from it.

Give me a place.

Yours in anticipation,

Elucidation of Immanent WIll

[A map, with a central, well guarded town highlighted. A few outlying towns at strategic points are underlined.]

I'll be taking all of these, same night.

As long as I'm with a force, I can make about up to one fifty people hard to spot - doesn't make me invisible, but I become the only weak link.

I'll start at Lotus Valley... Once that's done, I'll move on to the next in line.

Phoenix's Claw will be the hardest to take like this, so I'd like your help there. I'll be taking them last, shortly before dawn.

The date... It'll be a waxing crescent moon.

Yours in excitement,

Shimmering Wyldclaw

The gates at Phoenix's Claw will be open. I will meet you there.

Yours in subversion,

Elucidation of Immanent Will

Wyld sends back a confirmation, then sets more seriously to implementing the strategies she's been developing.

This is risky, and relies a lot on trusting Luc' to provide her good info - but it'll be doable, Wyld thinks, even with a double cross. Hopefully.

She doesn't really have a head for manipulations, so she pushes that worry mostly out of her mind and into the realm of low-probability contingencies.

She's unlikely to be able to regain Essence from resting during this campaign, though the prayers in her name provide a steady trickle - enough for her to change shape into one of her stolen forms, back into a true form, and use some minor charms... Like the veil that stretches over her people, hiding them from prying eyes. She doesn't have enough soldiers for a hundred fifty per town, not yet, but that helps, makes them nothing more than dark shadows under the wan moonlight. Luna's smiling on her.

Lotus Valley she takes without a single casualty. (On her part. The guards die, of course, but then her people seize the rest of the village without issue). The next town - a small alarm goes up. She deals with it with a small number of fatalities and more serious injuries on her people's parts. Sloppy. She's more cautious at the third village - it takes a bit more time, but she'll hold the place more firmly.

Still, she makes it to Phoenix's Claw in plenty of time, thirty minutes before the scheduled point of her arrival - an hour before sunrise - and with her Essence mostly regenerated.

She drops out of the sky, shifting out of her hawk form, and looks around for Luc' as she quietly sends word throughout her troops to prepare to move.

There's a pair of shadowed figures standing by the open gate.

Wyld brings her people in silently behind her - with Luna's blessings, it's not any harder than ghosting up herself.

She steps up beside Luc', tilting her head in and smiling. "I'm glad you're here," she says, softly. "What's the situation?"

"All quiet. There's a been a dusk-to-dawn curfew for the last three days, and all the wall guards are either dead, asleep, or willing to go along with kicking current management out." She pushes the man next to her to the ground. He collapses bonelessly. "Not as many of those last as I could wish, but enough."

"Impressive. Sounds like you've already done most of my work for me," she says, teasingly. "Not that I mind being the one to mop up."

"I wouldn't want you to think I've just been sitting on my hands."

"I wouldn't dare."

"Good."

She laughs, softly, and idly signals her people to fan out and secure the town - there'll be guards past those on the wall, of course, who might need to be dealt with.

"How did you fare at your other stops?"

"Quick and easy. Two were entirely without casualties, though one was a bit rougher, and I lost two of my people, with some others injured."

"Your luck is holding well enough, then."

"I don't know - I might need a few more lucky kisses before we next part. To refresh it, you know."

"If you ask me nicely."

"I suppose I can practice my manners."

Luc' pats Wyld on the head.

She laughs and sticks her tongue out.

"Come on, let's not leave all the fun to my troops."

"Certainly not. After you."

She smiles and heads off, looking for the center of any resistance.

There's not much that can stand up to two Exalted backed up by a professional army; Wyld's people's training also shines rather brightly. They don't loot, or set fires even on accident, or get distracted from their missions, or break their formations, and they work seamlessly with the animals Wyld's trained. The advance is slower than undisciplined raiders might have managed, giving Wyld more information about who needs backup and chances to relay orders. They spare and secure anyone who surrenders.

Wyld has fun with the pockets of resistance, naturally.

Watching Wyld have fun is almost as entertaining as participating.

Wyld definitely enjoys having Luc' there, so it all balances out.

Once they've stopped finding guards willing to fight back, when the sun's about to rise: "I'm going to have my people handle announcing the regime change in each district; figure I can save addressing the town as a whole for later. For now - I'd like to find the mayor's house and see what's on offer for breakfast." And possibly take a nap. "Care to join me?"

"I think I will. A shame to cut our reunion short already."

Broad smile.

She's apparently already had the mayor imprisoned, with his wife and children escorted to the wife's parents under armed guard. His slaves are still in residence; Wyld tells them they're free, but that a broad curfew is still in effect, so they'll have to stay on the manor's grounds until the town is sorted out. She refuses any offers to serve her, taking over the kitchen for herself.

"Want anything?" she asks Luc' while sorting through ingredients.

"Let's see what's on offer," she says, moving to join Wyld.

Vegetables, spices, eggs, poultry, breads, tea, sugar, honey, candies... Most of it rather disproportionately fine, given what nearly everyone else in town eats.

"It amazes me how rarely I find leaders who make sure their people have nice things, too," Wyld comments, off handed. "There's enough here for all of my troops to get a little treat, and I bet more in the plantation kitchens..."

"But then there wouldn't be enough for them to eat like this all the time."

"I don't eat like this all the time, either," she says, shrugging.

"Ah, but see, you make the mistake of thinking of your followers as people who are also capable of enjoying things, rather than disposable and interchangeable tools."

She laughs. "And now I'm here being very inconvenient with my message of universal personhood. How rude of me."

"I think your army is also part of the inconvenience."

"They're what elevates this from an inconvenience to a movement."

She laughs.

"As you say."

"Also allow me to not have to handle the boring parts. That's important."

"Mm, delegation. A key skill."

"Especially with things you don't even want to do."

"I'm actually happy to let someone else do all the ruling - I don't really rule my people right now, especially not in the day to day stuff. Leaves me more time to do what I want. Though I imagine most of my life's going to get eaten with military training and strategy for the next while."