She rode past the ogre armies and the mess tents they were readying. They were also as big as the dark Amazon women, or it was the other way around. Slightly pointed ears, crested noses and foreheads, they looked like a cross between human and Fea and put in a large orc's body. Often with tattoo's and even an accent of the swampy coasts of the south that reminded her of the whore's voice. They all eyed her with some suspicion, yet did nothing. She only went to war with them when they went to war with her. She preferred killing orcs. With the ogres were brownies, goblins and hobgoblins, trying to work to feed the armies before they went out to die. She snorted a little at that. She hadn't passed up a last meal, though hers had been little more bread and a little cheese.
She stopped again, seeing her brother and two sisters sharing cups, united in their last. They either saw and didn't care or didn't as they toasted and drained the cups outside a tent. There should have been a pang of something. Jealousy maybe, pain? Hurt that they didn't offer her to be a part of the family? She felt nothing over it. Just made it all the more real her family didn't care. As she went on, her stag came to a halt on it's own. Standing in her path, wearing scouting leathers, not even bothering to wear the family colors, instead three crossed arrows as the symbol, was Cimiar, her eldest daughter. Her green eyes burned brightly beneath her hood, which she took off.
Inivia was looking down at a younger version of herself. Cimiar had inherited her looks, if not her temperament. Her face was leaner then normal and her ears were to the sides, hanging over her shoulders and quirked a little. Her eyes were red rimmed and it looked like she'd been crying. Cimiar gave a frustrated growl and shook her head.
"Goodbye." And, that was that. She turned and walked back into the crowds as they prepared for this last fight. Inivia just nodded. It was something. Not even too little too late. Just an acknowledgement that they were not going to make it. And it'd been the most words said to each other in over seven years. She hadn't even gotten to start again when the shadows bent around her and Adriel stepped out, bottle still in hand, which she tucked into a bag on her belt. Adriel sighed and just walked up to her and hugged her leg, then jumped back and looked up at her, biting her lips.
"Look," Adriel didn't exactly look in her eyes, instead just past them, "you don't hear this often, if at all. I do love you. I don't always like you and you are not happy with the path I've taken. You're still my mother. I don't want this to be it."
"It doesn't have to be it. Though I will likely die." Inivia said. Adriel bit her lip again and nodded. Adriel knew what she was. Besides being one of Titania's Chosen, like herself, she was an Elder born in the mortal coil. She had the power to destroy a city with a point of her little finger. Yet, it'd been no help here. Another part of herself echoed in Adriel. She was a hammer who would always be one.
"Don't say that mother." Adriel sighed again and wiped her eyes. "We will win. We are winning."
"And many more will die even if we do. Thank you for your kind words. You know what you have to do." Adriel nodded. She knew her daughter didn't like it. She had been meant to make the wood elves rule again, her lineage brought up with only the more powerful of the Sunleaf line. Instead, she now had to save the entire world. If she could. If she could save it, perhaps she could save the wood elves too. "Goodbye, Adriel."
"Mother-" Inivia started her stag forward and left her standing there. "I love you." She heard the near whispered words. Inivia said nothing more back. What could be said? These were desperate times and if she wanted closure to make herself feel better, so be it. At least Cimiar had been sincere. No wasted words. She found her battle standard and awaited her commanders. The first to show was Redmaw, riding a giant armored wolf, a magic bred steed, beside him an UnSeelee paladin. Another bottle born, but demon blooded, with a mask over her face and black and red armor.
"Orc Slayer." The big orc grunted at her. Redmaw's clan of wolf riders were the more barbaric of orc kind and he showed it in his armor and dress. Cruder then most his kinds armor, it was spiked and painted in red and green, a fur lined black cloak over his shoulder. A red metal spiked maw with large tusks embedded in them over his mouth, a part of his helmet hiding his own tusks and scarred face. He wore a long war braid and had elf skulls on both is armor and his wolf's. He held up a hand with a large metal clawed gauntlet on it and he carried a large sword that was more a jagged cleaver. His main band of chest armor had a rough metal red wolf head at it's center. Everything about him said that he'd been to the cheapest smith and told them to make him look as monstrous as possible.