[Tevildo]

I have a favor to ask. This post needs to go in a box somewhere before the slaver's' attack. Otherwise my timing is off. Would anyone be willing to do that?

This post might work well at the end of Folwren's in 300, or the beginning of Durelin's box in 301.

I am sorry to be late with this.

I've been thinking about this. How would someone feel if they'd spent most of their life in terrible conditions as a slave and then they found out they had some special powers or abilities they never knew they had? It's almost like a little kid praying for superpowers so they can bash in the heads of kids who are teasing them, and then suddenly they get those powers.... I think this will not be easy for Azhar. There are downsides here, and she is totally unaware of them. What's that old saying?.....Be careful what you wish for...

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Tevildo's post

Tom had fallen asleep in Rôg's arms, his head nestled securely within the shapechanger's cloak. The girl trotted alongside her rescuer as the little party of three hurried back towards the grove where the women and children were waiting. Azhar's heart pulsed with a strange excitement. So much had happened since the morning that she barely knew how to make sense of it all. Even now, she was having trouble getting her bearings. In all the tumult and shock, she'd forgotten about the war, her fear of losing Tom, her inability to hold her shape, and even her repulsion at seeing the slavers' bodies lying dead and mangled on the ground. Her head was filled with jumbled images of great bears and flashing dragons, creatures of incredible might who could lash out and in a single instant command the attention of all around them.

The girl's entire life had been mired in fear. She had feared the whips of the orc overlords and the sneering grins of the Easterlings. For the first time since leaving the plantation, Azhar sensed the enticing possibility of leaving that experience behind her. If she could learn to control these abilities, if she could take on the bear form whenever it suited her, then she would be as strong as any Orc chieftain....even stronger. Part of her wished that she had come into her powers many years ago. She imagined swooping down on a band of slaveholders and taking them out with a single blow. The other part wanted to change into bear form and clamber up onto a pile of rocks so everyone could see and admire her mighty muscles and claws.

A brief smile slipped over Azhar's face. Kwell had said that women couldn't fight. She would have loved to see his face when she casually changed her form and slipped up behind him with a loud and menacing growl.

Azhar glanced nervously over at Rôg and wondered. The man was enormously kind; he seemed so mild mannered and unassuming. He meekly acceded to the requests of Lindir and even the elderly Aiwendil, yet he was clearly a better fighter than either of them! If Azhar had been Rôg, she would have slipped into dragon form and glided out over the open plain in full daylight, attacking and decimating the band of slavers before they ever even reached the camp. Why, she wondered, didn't he do that? Then they wouldn't have had to go through this terrible battle. At the very least, she would have made sure that all her companions knew and understood exactly who she was. But it seemed as if Rôg was very quiet about these things, keeping everything to himself.

Azhar would have loved to ply Rôg with a whole string of questions. At the same time, she wondered whether she would have the chance to see the dragon again should the slavers attack their little grove. Unfortunately, this did not seem to be the right time or place to be asking Rôg such hard questions. And she had better keep her own mind on what was going on around her or she would end up dead before she ever had the time to learn how to hold and manage her other shape.

With a sigh, Azhar said her hasty goodbyes to Rôg, thanking him for all his help and promising to look out after the children. She and Tom went back to where the women were waiting, only this time two of the mothers whisked the little boy and his sisters away and reassured her that they could manage to care for the three children. Too nervous to stay hidden in one place, Azhar wandered back to where the older children were waiting. She looked around for Kwell but he still was not back. Then she stared out and saw where Athwen was caring for the sick and wounded. The woman seemed to be havingg quite a time of it. Darting from boulder to boulder, she came up to the healer and asked, "Do you need any help?"