From: Mike and Micky Gunn Subject: [PORC] The vigil ***snip*** > When they reached the > battleground, there was little left to do. The three young women were > cleaning their blades on the remains of the Orc's clothing and sheathing > them. Tenaka and Twilight also put away their weapons. "That went rather well," thought J'layah, wiping black ichor from Tenaka's blade onto the still-twitching corpse. A quick glance at Mea and Pilar revealed they too had dispatched their foes and were similarly engaged in "cleaning up". "Considering I have very little combat experience that went a little *too* well." She paused in the gory task to examine her reflection - somewhat distorted - in the katana's blood red surface. It was almost as though the sword had a mind of its own...it had seemingly guided her hand in parrying every blow the orc threw at her - effortlessly, and had found the opening (and the gap in the ribcage) after the beast had swung a little too vigourously and overbalanced. Before she had even registered the strike the creature was on the ground, begging for its life. That she had shown no mercy and immediately slashed the orc's throat was frightening enough...worse still was the fact that she'd enjoyed it. She had been brought up to respect life in all its varied forms and to kill only when necessary, and only in self defence. Her parents would be horrified if they'd seen her charging forth, bloodlust burning in her eyes. She reflected on her uncharacteristic actions a moment longer, then shrugged. No sense in dwelling on it - their quest would be difficult enough without the added burden of guilt. "Perhaps I am simply becoming hardened to the ways of the world," she thought, "or perhaps this evil place brings out the worst in me...in us." Task completed, J'layah turned around, thinking to thank Tenaka again for his timely gift when she noticed his prone, unmoving form on the ground. Twilight stood over him, her sword drawn. She ran toward them, worried thoughts tumbling unbidden through her head, and as soon as she was close enough the questions spilled forth. "What is wrong? Is he hurt? Did he slip? Did he get caught in his own spell? Did a foul orc slip past us and wound him?" There was a note of panic in her voice. Twilight - as ever - seemed unconcerned and rasied a slender hand to calm her. "Peace, J'layah. Tenaka is unharmed...he is merely scouting ahead." "But he is laying there on the ground with his eyes closed! How *can* he be scouting ahead?" J'layah sheathed her weapon and knelt by the Dark Elf's side, bewildered. "Ah, I see you are unfamiliar with the wonders of astral travel then?" Twilight saw the look of puzzlement on J'layah's face and continued. "One who is well versed in the Art - such as Tenaka here - may leave his corporeal body for a short time while his "spirit" travels where it will. This non-corporeal form is invisible to the naked eye and able to move through solid objects, and at great speed. However, it is unable to affect anything of a solid nature and *must* return to the body ere too long has passed, else the body dies and the soul is lost in the ether...forever." Twilight's voice wavered ever so slightly at the last. Obviously she'd either had a close call herself or had witnessed first hand the demise of an astral traveller. "How does the spirit know when to return?" probed J'layah, ever curious. "How does one know when to eat, drink and sleep? The body sends out strong signals - very difficult to ignore, and so it is with astral travel. The spirit feels the "call" of the body and knows to return." The younger Elf nodded, "I see, but why then is his face so deathly pale of a sudden?" Twilight's gaze snapped to Tenaka's visage. Indeed, the Dark Elf's complexion had turned ashen - not a good sign by any measure. "I know not. He may have encountered another astral being...perhaps a lost soul, perhaps something worse. The ethereal plane is immense but by no means devoid of inhabitants. At any rate, all we can do at present is guard his body until he returns." Twilight's dark eyes met J'layah's gray ones and an unspoken thought passed between them. "*If* he returns."