Dro-ope

Tecuani, withered with exhaustion dropped to his knees beside Blank and Dral. His knowledge of medicine feeling useless at this frozen moment, his eyes burn with the thought of losing another member. Where was Val? And Elena? Had they given up on this fools errand? Tecuani soon felt a rush of languish fall over himself as he stormed off leaving the warlock enamored with his studies. Perhaps he’ll find a decent recipe in one of those stacks of books he treasures Tecuani chuckled sardonically to himself as he continued to lumber on, focused more so now on a piece of Anything.

His hunger pained him rapidly, soon shooting through his stomach as if all he’d devoured was the wretched ankhegs' bile. Tecuani chuckled again: That would knock us on our arse, he thought, a nice ankheg ale. He soon came to a small clearing, Tecuani noticed a particularly larger, older tree and took himself to climb it perhaps he could spot some locale fauna to help Blank recover more quickly or again anything else to given him a noble mission. He pondered on this thought. He felt he was searching in vain however in his heart he knew he couldn’t stand idly by as on of his pack lay in anguish. The fire burning in his chest Tecuani felt a surge of will fall through him as he pushed himself further. Tecuani’s eyes then flashed white and fell back as he, lazily then his body fell back against the trunk of this massive tree. The sun light grew dim still as Tecuani wasn’t but two third up this massive tree, between the oncoming sunset and the thicket above him when his trance came to easily…

The flash of his father’s face, and the he was soon surrounded high up, twenty miscellaneous matched maggots sat outside of his perimeter. Twenty strong they sat too patiently. More must be arriving to refresh and build the force to find this "wretch". “Wretch” while Tecuani wasn’t a scholarly fellow his diction wasn’t lacking. “Wretch” it stuck to him like the filth they thought he was, now he was hunting the lot of them. The total incursion lasted only a mere seven weeks to "eliminate" all the bandits that had congregated at the news there was a Half-Elf living near-by that was better off dead rumor had it.

Week one and two consisted a lot of childish warfare tactics after he grew bored watching their simplistically lavish lifestyle. He would attack on a whim, feeling little need for planning; hurling a hatchet here or a few knives there at the scrawny ones. “Thinning the herd” he eventually heard one of the bigger ones saying to a rather hefty fellow. The first man, not as large as the second however he held a scar across his throat and a weight on his shoulder that could not be measured, as if he and that scar were highly sought after honor in his clan. Tecauni chuckled to himself between this first brute’s whim and some intellectual forethought he was starting to like this one and a few hours of the larger one failing miserably to push his agenda on the other. "Maybe I’ll save him for last" Tecuani thought and with that little bit of entertainment Tecuani headed back to a secret entrance in the trees to his fort. He felt satisfied with himself, he had taken out half their regiment in a week and a half and managed to have some entertainment during some unintended recon. That’s probably why he hadn’t felt the arrow that shot through his left hand till it made contact with the branch Tecuani was reaching for at the same moment his hand did pinning him there, hanging like a childs toy. Two cold blue eyes stared straight through Tecuani’s. “Looks like I caught me a Dro-ope”

Tecuani suddenly awoke, all of a sudden about forty feet below his final ascent. A lumbersome log lay acrossed his legs, his head pounding and throbbing. Tecuani haphazardly tried to regain his senses and bearing. It came back to him. Blank was in trouble, she could have died. Anyone of them could have, suddenly remembering the supplies the shit-stain Peg left with him he found a renewed sense of urgency. Why is he letting himself get in his own way, he had all the tools all along, he yelled to himself. Then Tecauni hurled the twig of a branch from his legs with a renewed sense of rage and pulled himself upwards, his legs sluggish still from the fall. Tecauni peered into the distance for some answers, either for them or just to help her… hoping if he found nothing the supplies slung across his back would suffice with his fellow drow’s resilience, he made his way back to camp as dawn approached.