Changing Rain

Strange happenings

Greck stood tall and tried to maintain a look of detached calm. He had searched for months, following every rumor, tracking down every hint of the Shifter Army. He now stood in the midst of one of the largest legions, war veterans passing to and fro all about him. He tried to act as if he belonged there. Cool, unfrightened, assured. A few of the weathered soldier's nodded to him as they passed, some even offered him morsels of food. All of them seemed to be very aged, though most had yet to acquire any gray in their hair.  

It all made Greck feel very, very young.  

He stood in front of a large gray tent. The general of the legion was inside with his counselors. He had found Greck lying in a ditch, dehydrated and exhausted, his feet worn, his clothes in tatters. The General put his sword to his throat, and had gently kicked Greck's leg, wakening him.  

The General had made him phase before removeing the sword and then allowed Greck to explain his predicament.  

Upon hearing what had happened, with both Werkek and the Shifter Council, he had immediately called a council of his own.  

They were still in the Generals tent now, and the low voices were indistinguishable.  

An old soilder with more gray then brown hair approached Greck in a friendly manner.  

" Hello lad, where did you come from? Are the recruits finally here to be spread among the rest of the army?" 

" No sir, there was trouble along the way. " 

The solider's bushy browns pulled together in concern.  

" Trouble? What happened?" Before Greck could answer the General walked out of his tent. He was an unassuming man, average height, average coloring, he looked to be entirely avrage. But when he spoke, it rang out with quiet authority and reassurance, it was a voice people listened too.  

" Come in lad, my men wish to hear the tale from you. " He noticed the older man that had just been talking to Greck.  

" Yelmin? Come in, you might as well hear his tale too. " Greck didn't comment as he followed the General into the tent. 

It was poorly lit, the only light filtered in through the tent walls from the afternoon sun. The war council was seven grim looking warriors, who sat in a half circle. The man Yelmin joined them and all stared at Greck expectantly. All the stress from his journey seemed to press in on him, but he refused to lose face to these respected men.  

" Where would you like me to start sir?" 

" I would like to start with the girl. " The speaker was probably the oldest there, with a wrinkled, Bald head and eyebrows like bushes.  

" Why was she there? She would have been in the Underground making more soldier's, doing her duty as a shifter woman. " The General turned his steady gaze upon the old man until he began to squirm with discomfort.  

" Netsanii women are not brood mares Jiqola. They are free individuals to do as they please. " 

The word Netsanii rang oddly on Grecks ears. It was technically the true name of the shifter tribes. But when their culture had been lost, they had adopted the human name of shifter. It was odd indeed to hear anyone use it. 

" What girl?! Be she here? Where are the recruits?" The man Yelmin asked, bewildered.  

" Her name, was Raiyne. " Greck's voice was strained. The general looked back to him, and his gaze softened with sympathy.  

" Of course lad. Just start at the beginning for Yelmin's benefit." Greck nodded, and began.

Greck was swaying almost drunkedly by the time his tale was nearly done.