Chapter 1 - Kingscross

[Black Plauge]

Heulwen

"I had heard of the danger already and planned to leave at first light, but if you are so anxious to leave then perhaps I should move up my plans."

That hand! Those scars! Could it be? This man must be the healer that the dwarf was coming here to see! I'm glad he cares enough to get the dwarf out while he still can.

Smiling at the man, Heulwen wishes him farewell, "It is always a difficult time for those with secrets. Mine is myself and not only my life but the life of my friend relies on keeping it. I wish you luck in keeping yours."

Watching the man go, Heulwen waits until she can no longer hear the sound of his horses hooves on the road nor smell him on the wind before looking east as the man had so recently done. Studying both land and sky to the horizon for a moment, Heulwen can't help but think that he dream might have been some sort of premonition. Quickly, she opens the package she received from Stafford and examines its contents.

[Kahluah]

Rhotha'ah

Rhotha'ah treads heavily, his footsteps pounding in his own ears as he jogs towards the Weary Wanderer, barely managing to break into a sweat. Sword strapped to his back and a bundle of armor and belongings under his arm, he slows slightly upon reaching the door, throwing it open with a resounding crack that would wake all but the deepest of sleepers.

He halts his jog, his large silhouette filling the doorframe like a behemoth at the mouth of a cavern, spying the trio of Erenlanders at the base of the stairs. "Stop. I believe there to be trouble headed this way within the hour." The words slip through the barbarian's square-set jaw, his baritone voice reverberating through his chest and the room as he pauses momentarily to catch his breath, letting his words settle like dew on a morning field.

[Berova]

Dun

Dun takes the words of the Dorn seriously, "Trouble, what sort of trouble?" He pauses briefly to listen to Rotha'ah's answer and in turn asks the Dorn, "What would you suggest we do about it?" as he quickly considers all options open before him.

[Kahluah]

Rhotha'ah

The Dorn strides towards the trio, his step unerring in its determination. "To the East, several dozen torches come this way. I know not if they are of honorable intent, but it is unusual for those with such to travel in swarms so late in the evening." His memories of the events of merely a week ago flood back to the front of his mind, the screams, the bloodshed, the masks..

He bites back his rage and his memories once more, eyes narrowed at the three in front of him as the muscles of his jaw knot tightly, giving him the appearance of violence barely contained beneath his flesh. His eyes look over the three small humans in front of him, waiting for their responses to the unveiling news.

[Dirigible]

Lyr

Just comming down the stairs, Lyr looks surprised as the Dorn lurches back into the inn taproom. The huge man looks angrier than ever... surprising he doesn't bite through his own teeth or explode from it. Hearing his declamation, Lyr looks seriously at Aleina.

"It very well may be the... unwanted visitors. It makes sense they would travel in the pitch of night. Maybe they plan to camp until dawn... or maybe we should be on our way immediatly."


OOC: What lies to the east of the town, again? Which way to the ruins?

[Gralhruk]

Aleina

Lyr and Dun head upstairs and for a moment Aleina is left alone in the shadowed common room of the inn. She shifts uncomfortably, unconsciously mimicking the nervous swaying of a forlorn tree in the growing wind. The only sounds are the creaking of floorboards and the wind whistling softly through the gaps in the rough sawn walls. Her unease was growing rather than receding, and as the moments stretch it crosses her mind that perhaps she should have gone to check on Bombur. Feyd said he would bring the mule, but she was already here; at this point she might as well wait - Lyr would be down momentarily.

She can hear the floorboards above once again, the noise growing louder as the two approach the stairs and descend. Her attention focused on the pair, she misses the sounds of someone approaching from without and her heart leaps into her throat as the door to the coommon room bangs open. She turns, her hands outstretched, fully expecting to see the armored bodies of a dozen filthy orcs pushing through the door. There is only one - a monstrous, imposing figure made huge in the dim light. A moment later she realizes it is the Dorn she had met earlier and, taking a step back, lowers her hands. Her blood freezes with his news.

"Maybe they plan to camp until dawn... or maybe we should be on our way immediatly."

She shakes her head, her icy blue eyes distant now. It always ends in fire.

"They will come without stopping. We must leave now. My mule may still be in the stable; let's collect him and be gone."

[Kahluah]

Rhotha'ah

Upon listening to the pair talk of leaving immediately, Rhotha'ah's mouth opens in disbelief. "You would both leave your clansmen and bloodlines without aiding them?" He steps sideways towards a table, placing the bundle of armor and equipment on it's top, before turning back towards the trio, looking about the whole of the common room in bewilderment.

"Is there not a mote of honor at all amongst your people?" He speaks softly, his words caught amongst the ebbing tide of memories, his own eyes searching theirs for anything that would translate to him as good in them.

[Dirigible]

Lyr

The slender man shakes his head mournfully. "It is not so simple, my friend. We have told the mayor... the, ah, 'chieftain' of this place and his... 'mhor' of the orcs that are descending upon Kingscross... it was not news to them. It seems they have their own plans for defending or preserving themselves."

Lyr glances at Dun and Aleina. "This is not our town; all three of us are strangers here. We've done what we can, but they will not listen to us." He gives the Dorn and apologetic look. Why am I apologising to him? Why do I feel guilty?

[Gralhruk]

Aleina

Lyr's voice holds a hint of uncertainty, almost as if he doesn't belive what he is saying. Aleina knows he has doubt about leaving, she also knows that the Dorn has some truth to his words. In the end, though, she believed they were in over their heads, that whatever was going to happen here was going to happen. They could leave with their lives and hope help in some other way, or they could stay and die.

"I am no warrior, to best with a blade all the minions the dark one spawns."

She glances at the small sarcosan before fixing her eyes on the huge Dorn. He will not be easy, she decides.

"What will it gain if you slay a few mongrel orcs before you die? There are tasks, honorable tasks, where you might sacrifice your life. This is not one of them. Or, if you do not believe me, I say do not spend your life so cheaply. Wait until you might take more of them with you, or make a bigger difference.

I am no warrior, but I can heal some of the hurts inflicted in battle. If I stay alive, that is."

[Kahluah]

Rhotha'ah

The Dorn considers the words of the woman and the men, a battle raging deep within his chest. Stay. Go. Flee. Fight. This immortal war rages over his countenance as he struggles to find the solution amidst the turmoil between his duty and his conscience.

"You..you are right," he sighs, his shoulders slumping a little, "but does the chieftan and his council know that his enemies are less than an hour away."

He looks the three square in the eyes as best he can. "I can not - will not - slink into the darkness with my tail between my legs like a wounded animal without at least doing something. I will not let this happen again - take me to the chieftan so that we may warn him of the impending raid, and then.." Rhotha'ah sighs once again, conceding defeat and allowing his duty to his tribe to win, over his conscience, this particular battle. "Then, we shall leave."

[Berova]

Dun

A hundred thoughts races through Dun's mind as the conversation between his fellow Erenlanders and the Dorn unfolds before him, then, a thought strikes him, "Wait! Something doesn't seem right here ... or is not all what it seems." Dun looks at Rhotha'ah more directly, "You said, 'several dozen torches come this way' and yet... isn't it unusual for orcs to come with torches? Think now! ...even orcs at their foulest on of murderous rampage to burn a hamlet to the ground would not travel with lit torches in the dark. Yes, they'd have lit torches, but you'd not see them lit until it's too late."

"But alas, try as I might, I cannot but come to the same conclusion you all have come to, that they are orcs, and they are on a murderous rampage." Dun shudders at the thought.

[Dirigible]

Lyr

"By the spirits..." Lyr breathes, stunned. Such a simple, obvious flaw... How did I miss it? "He's right! I studied a text on the anatomy of orcs once, and it said that they not only see in the dark better than a cat, but it drives them into a battle-frenzy... they would never blind themselves with torch-light when they could seize the advantage of darkness!"

"Thye may be men instead of orcs, then... in the service of the Occupiers." He frowns. "You are right, Rhotha'ah... we must tell the chief... the mayor of this before we leave."

He shoulders his pack and turns to Dun. "It seems less and less likely that we will meet again, my friend. I hope your business goes well, and is not jeopardiased by your decision to remain until the morn." He smiles, and offers his hand to the other Erenlander.

[Berova]

Dun

Returning Lyr's smile, Dun grasps his hand, "Never under-estimate your enemies, never try to out-guess the hands of fate."

"As I've said, should I complete my errand in the morning, I shall seek you all at the old tower. Take care of each other." He turns his gaze back to Lyr, "I wish you well my friend, take good care."

[Kahluah]

Rhotha'ah

Feeling dejected, the barbarian looks about the tavern. I have an obligation to my people, so why do I feel obligated to aid this settlement?

"They may be men instead of orcs, then..."

Rhotha'ah looks up at Lyr, disbelief crossing his face. "What did you say?"

Upon hearing the words repeated back, his mouth widens into a tight-lipped grin and his eyes sparkle with a renewed vigor. Perhaps these raiders one and the same as those who destroyed my settlement.

Listening to the two men talk about parting one another's company, Rhotha'ah cuts in. "If Dun will not leave until morning, then I will see to it he reaches this tower you speak of. This Dorn never goes back on his word." He reaches out his right hand and arm to Lyr to seal the verbal deal.

[Dirigible]

Lyr

"Mmff."

Lyr bites his lip as the Dorn's meaty hand grinds his lower arm bones together, but he keeps smiling. As he is released, he subtly tries to massage some life back into it.

"Aleina, you and Rhotha'ah shold go and speak to Mayor Lusk. I've just remembered something I left outside town for safekeeping that I must go and retreive. I'll meet you at the ruins." He frowns. "Have you spoken to the man earlier tonight? If not, he may remember me."

[Kahluah]

Rhotha'ah

Rhotha'ah tilts his head to the side slightly as he shakes the man's hand. After they release each their grip, he looks at his own hand, face contorted on slight confusion, before looking at Lyr and shaking his head.

"No. Like this."

He reaches his right arm out again, and this time grabs Lyr's right forearm firmly but without his strength behind it, leaving enough room of motion for Lyr to grip the barbarian's forearm also. When the simple gesture is done, Rhotha'ah nods, the hint of a smile creasing the corner of his mouth. "There, it is done. I will ensure that Dun reaches the tower you speak of, if you give me the direction of it at least."

He looks at Aleina, waiting for her response to Lyr on talking to the Mayor.

[Dirigible]

Lyr

Lyr shoulders his pack and moves towards the door. Turning back, he passes his eyes over the other three, murmuring a farewell.

"The... elves of the Western Woods believe that the spirits of those who escape the Fell Fate live on forever in the very land around them." He smiles weakly. "Hopefully, some of those spirits will look out for us, and for Kingscross, this night... I'll see you all at the ruins."

As he glances at Aleina, he suddenly realises that, though it has been there as a warm buzz, the feeling of connection hasn't overwhelmed his consciousess in some time. His eyes linger on her thoughtfully for a moment, until he turns to the door.

(OOC: Last chance for tearful goodbyes, y'all)

[Gralhruk]

Aleina

Her relief at persuading the Dorn is overshadowed by reluctance as he invites himself along. He either ignores or doesn't notice her sharp look, busy as he is in some male bonding ritual with Lyr. Looking at the hulking Rhotha'ah and the slender Lyr, she can't help but notice that two men couldn't me more different. Her reluctance fades as she studies his attitude: whatever else, Rhotha'ah was not an actor.

For a few moments her vision clouds, the three men darker shadows in a world gone dim, as she ponders the fate that has led her to this road. Almost, she hopes that some other vision will come to her. Almost, because it was something that she loathed as well as loved, to see things, to know things and still be powerless to change them. To be a pawn. For good or ill, she remains alone but for the ghosts that she brings whereever she goes.

Her eyes focus sharply as Lyr offhandedly decides the Dorn should accompany her to visit the mayor. Anger is clear in her icy eyes as she stares at him wordlessly. She doesn't think he's oblivious enough to miss it, but he ignores it anyway. The mayor would likely not want to listen, and having this explosive barbarian along wasn't going to make her job any easier. Not that she wanted even wanted the job to begin with. It was Lyr who had wanted to go. She shakes her head slightly, readying her response, when he speaks about the spirits of the dead. The color drains from her dusky face and the reply dies in her throat. She looks down, her voice but a whisper.

"They are there."

Not alive, not dead. Trapped forever in the space between this world and the next, powerless to do anything but watch the slow destruction of everything once held dear. She was halfway there already.

[Dirigible]

Lyr

What is she so angry about? he wonders as the door to the Weary Wanderer swings closed. Women. Odd creatures. Perhaps this is why Voreen chose to live a hermits life. He smiles, wry but tinged with veiled pain.

Squinting in the gloom, Lyr heads out of Kingscross, trying to make his way back to the spot where he buried his package. I hope I can find it in the dark...

[Cadrius]

Heulwen

He begins to lead his horse away, burdened as heavily as it is the beast puts up with it remarkably well, even if it snorts a few times at Cytaill.

"It is always a difficult time for those with secrets. Mine is myself and not only my life but the life of my friend relies on keeping it. I wish you luck in keeping yours."

The man Heulwen presumes to be the healer stops and turns, his head still cowled, but she can make out part of his chin and mouth in the starlight. He appears to watch her for a moment and then nods, as if only just understanding her words.

"I fear I understand all too well," he says, "and should you see fire, I suggest you leave in a hurry. Should you fall...ill, I might be found west of here. Good luck in your travels, wherever the path might take you."

With that he passes into the woods; bearing no light he quickly vanishes. The noise of his passage lasts only a few moments longer and then it too dissipates, leaving Heulwen alone with her thoughts and the package that Captain Stafford has secured for her. Heulwen's deft hands quickly unfasten the twine knots securing the goods and within a few minutes has everything laid out before her.

The Captain had done well. Clothing makes for the bulk of the gift and she finds a small set of brown breeches and a green overshirt. It won't due for the winter, but they at least serve better than the bright red garments gifted to her by Feyd. A pair of rough leather boots are bundled in as well. The clothing seems to have served as an outer layer against damage to those contained within.

The second layer reveals several tightly wrapped bits of food. Cytaill wags his tail and begins to nose the packages. It smells like fresh bread. Her nose proves to be dead on and she finds a loaf of bread as well as a few apples and other food suited to traveling.

Yet the most precious gift is found within a thin, leather wrapping. Unrolling it reveals a dozen fletched arrows and a small note. Unfolding it reveals a short, concise script. Unfortunately, she is unable to read the text.

Grenamo, alo en o abarador. Bin nu alan acore, no amblen a mor. Hol a jhon, etza progs a mool. -Crenshaw

Dun

Bidding the others a good evening, Dun climbs the stairs to his room and closes the door.

Lyr

Wondering about the strangeness of women, Lyr makes his way through the now silent town. The fires in the center are out, and a fairly large mess remains. The crowd hadn't gotten out of hand, even during the most spirited dancing, nevertheless the Mayor and his men look to have quite a bit of work waiting for them in a few hours. Soon, the square will be bustling with the citizens of Kingscross as they quickly erase the evidence of a festival. Yet for right now the square feels long-empty, as if it hadn't hosted a celebration of life in the face of hardship and shadow.

Shaking his head to clear them of those thoughts, Lyr walks again, soon leaving Kingscross behind. It isn't easy finding his cache in the dark, but eventually the young man succeeds. Paranoia's light fingers brush across his mind, but he's reassured when his hands grip the volumes once again. He plays a dangerous game carrying these books. Any legate would flay him alive for carrying such tomes, and how would his newfound friends react? Not much better he wagers. Most men wouldn't have anything to do with the books of a legate, but Lyr isn't like most, indeed, he isn't sure if he's like anyone.

Alone in the night air, he glances up at the stars and recognizes the constellation of the Dragon caught in mid-flight as it wings its way across the heavens. Something clicks in his memory about it. It's said that the Dragon bodes ill for those at beginning of a journey. Lyr hopes that his has already started.

Rhotha'ah and Aleina

An uncomfortable silence establishes itself quite quickly between the two of them. They are more dissimilar than one might initially guess. Physically they are as light and shadow; one tall and muscular, fair of hair, the other short and lithe with starless hair. Mentally they also stand out, the dorn is war-like, eager to prove his valor in battle. The erenlander works with herbs, preferring to leave the fighting for those who seek death. Yet there's at least one thing that joins the two. Aleina's haunting blue eyes remind all that see her of her northern ancestry. Rhotha'ah bears a similar set of eyes, not as striking as Aleina's, but fair all the same. Perhaps they share more than is obvious.

Moving through the town, Aleina is struck, much like Lyr was a few minutes earlier, at how empty the town feels. She had the feeling earlier in the evening, when she had visited Stephen, but it's stronger this time, sharper than before. For a brief moment she wonders if this will be the last night that Kingscross will stand, or that she'll see it anyway.

Houses slide past, almost invisible in the dim light, until they come across a large, well-built home. The Mayor's house stands two stories tall, and takes up the space that two or three others might. Either the man is very wealthy, or his family was to be able to afford a place of this size in the middle of town. Perhaps it's a remnant of past in a town whose glory has long since faded.

One of the windows near the door is slightly open, revealing the man Aleina and Rhotha'ah assume to be Mayor Lusk. He sits in a large, leather chair and a long-stemmed pipe sits, clutched between his teeth. He stares into the dying embers of a fire. Even in the dark he looks tired. The planning of such an event and its quick cleanup likely causes quite a strain in the man. But it's now, in the quiet part of the night when he's able to release the facade of the jolly leader, and let his exhaustion take hold.

[Black Plauge]

Heulwen

"What is it with men and pants?" Heulwen snorts upon seing the clothing, "Well, at least they are more suitable to hiding than the clothes Feyd brought."

Will they even fit over my armor? Heulwen can't help but wonder as she examines the rest of the package.

As she catches the scent of fresh bread, Heulwen's mouth begins to water and she immediately tears of a piece to eat. The loaves she had were long since stale and although her mother's blessing made the edible, the tough, chewy texture remained. Savoring the taste and feel of the bread, Heulwen carefully pushes Cytaill's nose away from the food.

"You know breads and fruits don't sit well in your stomach. If your hungry I'll get you another piece of meat from my pack, but you've already had one today."

Looking at the boots which she had hastily pushed aside to reach the bread, Heulwen nods in appoval. They were stout leather and would certianly serve her better than the cloth wrappings which currently addorned her feet.

The arrows in the inner most package were certianly well appreciated. She still did not have as many as she would like, but Heulwen had learned to make due with what she had. "I'll simply have to retrieve and reuse as many arrows as I can. I should also figure out how to make new arrows so that I can reuse the head even if the shaft breaks," she muses to herself.

As she picks up the arrows to transfer them to her quiver, a small scrap of paper flutters down from them. Picking it up, Heulwen sees that it contains strage markings on one side. "I wonder what this is?" she wonders aloud as she turns the paper over in her hands trying to find some clue to the meaning of the markings. Finding none, Heulwen places it in her belt pouch with her flint and steel, "At the very least it will make good tinder."

The contents of the package sorted, Heulwen takes a moment to check her surroundings visually, confirming what Cytaill's behavior and her own nose already told her, she was still alone. Quickly doffing her slave garb, Heulwen thinks about burning it for a moment. Realizing that a fire would merely serve to attract attention to her, Heulwen stuffs them in her backpack and dons the clothing from Stafford. The fit was decent, a little tight in places and loose in others. The clothing had obviously been designed for a human child, not a halfling woman, but it was better than the thread bare clothing she had been wearing.

"I'm going to need to find a place to get a divided skirt though," Heulwen says to Cytaill as she pulls on the pants. "These pants feel so restrictive."

Walking around a bit to get used to the feeling of the pants, Heulwen is thinking about bedding down again when something the healer had said rushes its way back into her memory.

"Fire! 'It always ends in fire.'" she exclaims, quoting the man from her dream. Her head jerks around to look where the man had gone only to see the blackness of the night beneath the forest canopy that had swallowed him. Slowly turning to the east, Heulwen studies what she sees, from Kingscross all the way to the horizon and above with her eyes, and sniffs the air with her nose.

[Gralhruk]

Aleina

After a brief stop by the stables to pick up Bombur, Aleina and her unlikely companion make their way to visit the mayor. It's hard to ignore the hulking presence of this man she hardly knows, but the two of them make a good show of pretending they don't notice one another. It is somewhat awkward, but she makes no attempt to engage him in conversation and he seems content to chew his anger in silence. If nothing else, it was doubtful anyone would bother them.

Her mind moves to the conversation she was about to have. How had Lyr talked her into this? If she was going to do this, then she needed to do it right. If she could convince Lusk of his danger . . .

But that was just it. Though she felt the danger, she didn't have any proof. Some torches, that was all. Maybe not, though. There was something else she could give him. Would it matter? She catches a glimpse of the Mayor as the pass the window of his study. He looks like a man with the weight of the world on his shoulders. True enough, she supposed. Kingscross was his world and they would all look to him to see how to act. He, of course, had no one to turn to with his fear.

One of Lyr's spirits drags it's fingers up her spine and she shivers. She absently drops one rein to the dirt. Bombur ground tied well, so long as nothing too scary happened. One quick glance to make sure the Dorn hasn't wandered off and then she speaks in a low voice.

"Will you wait here with Bombur? Everything I own is on his back, and I doubt very much anyone will seek to bother him if you are nearby. I will speak with the Mayor as quickly as I may and then we can go."

[Dirigible]

Lyr

For a long, long moment, the scholar stand, his hand caressing the leather of the book covers, feeling the formerly gold-inlaid depressions as if he could read through his fingertips. He knows what it says, of course, having worked it into the leather himself. The Book of Lyr a'Corian. His name, in the best High Elven script he could manage, mostly scraps of that sigilic, flowing lettering salvaged from within Pitas Voreen's tomes of mystic lore. Admittedly, his grasp of the language was not good, and his knowledge of its writting even less so.

Not lost in a sad memory, despite the melancholy expression on his face, he is instead ordering his thoughts, trying to come to terms with all he has heard and seen and felt this day. Placing everything where it belonged, between cause and effect. Considering what amendations needed to be made, what ne lore to be added. Some portent told him that there would be prescious little time for reminiscenes later.

Finally shaking himself free of his mantle of thoughts, he reverently slides the book into his pack, making sure it is well covered and hidden from casual perusal, and then walks his way back into Kingscross, seeking Aleina, the Dorn, the Mayor, or all three.

[Kahluah]

Rhotha'ah walks down the street, his meager belongings tucked under his arm, looking all the more like the Erenlander woman's bodyguard than anything else. Watching her form as they walk, he is reminded of his wife, even though the two women could not be any more different. Ilri'thi was tall with long flowing hair the color of sun-tainted dew drops, while this woman was short and fair, with hair like a raven's feather.

However, it wasn't the appearance that made him remember, but their similar strength of purpose. Both always walked towards their destinations and there was little anyone could do to turn them from what needed to be done.

"Will you wait here with Bombur? Everything I own is on his back, and I doubt very much anyone will seek to bother him if you are nearby. I will speak with the Mayor as quickly as I may and then we can go."

He nods to the woman solemnly, knowing that the news she is to give this towns chieftain is dark, and does not envy her this task. "I will stay with your mount, and no harm shall come to him." His deep green eyes lock onto her piercing blue ones for a moment of sincerity and trust, before moving away to scan down the street as he removes the large sword from his back once more.

As they walk past the Mayor's window, he watches his exhausted features stare into they dying embers of a fire once worthy of warming someone. "Even the flames sleep restlessly this night, it seems," he muses to himself, speaking in his native Northern tongue.

[Cadrius]

Aleina

For the second time this evening Aleina stands before a door, uncertainty and forboding warring for her attention. She feels slight in the presence of the large, oaken door and when her knuckles rap against the wood, it sounds faint, weak. Indeed, it sounds as if the silence blanketing the town is reluctant to be shattered and dampens her knock. She draws a deep breath and waits. Seconds crawl by, and she casts a glance over her shoulder. She isn't certain why. Perhaps paranoia is joining the fight with uncertainty and forboding.

Yet the door opens, after a time, revealing the same man who she had spied a few minutes earlier. His weariness was no trick of the firelight and he appears before her, almost haggard. His eyes are bloodshot, with dark rings laying beneath, and he still has the same long-stemmed pipe clutched between his teeth. Pulling it out, he gives Aleina an appraising look while his brow furrows.

"I don't know you, stranger, but I hope for both our sakes, there's a good reason for you to wake me at this hour." His eyes move past Aleina and to the forms of Rhotha'ah and Bombur standing some twenty paces away. The dorn mutters something in a language Aleina doesn't recognize.

"If you're looking for the festival," he says warily, "you're a bit late."

Rhotha'ah

The dorn stands guard over the mule, a duty that might seem ignoble to others but he maintains his word all the same. For his part, Bombur behaves himself; he blinks, swivels his head to look at things from time to time, and nuzzles Rhotha'ah's hand.

He keeps his eyes sharp, peeled for any danger, but none comes. A short distance away he sees the door open to reveal a middle-aged man. The man looks cautious, and why not? How often do strangers knock on his door in the early hours of the morning?

Minutes pass and the sounds of footsteps catch Rhotha'ah's ears and he turns his head, straining his eyes in the dim light for their source. A few moments later he sees the man, Lyr, from the inn come around the corner of the road. His face is unreadable, partly from the light and partly from his stony disposition.

Lyr

Making his way through the still-silent town, it doesn't take Lyr long to find the Dorn and Aleina's mule, standing at the far end of the street. The pair is unmistakable in the darkness. The larger of the two, the Dorn, looks alert, and stands tall, chest puffed out. Then again, he has yet to see the the man differ from this. He watches Lyr approach.

Heulwen

Cytaill sighs heavily and lies down again, watching Heulwen examine each of the goods given to her by Stafford. After a time the wogren closes his eyes and falls asleep.

Try as she might, Heulwen can't see any flames or fire coming from the town. Her eyes, sharper than any human's at night, quickly flick across Kingscross, at least as much of it as she can see. If the village is to end in flame, it won't be occurring in the next several minutes. Her nose doesn't find anything out of the ordinary, the faint scent of the festival intermingles with her own bread and the crisp air.

[Kahluah]

Rhotha'ah

The dorn spots the small Erenlander walking towards him, breaking his vigilant watch over the mule. He places one hand softly on the beast of burden, ensuring that as his eyes avert themselves from it, it is still being kept watch over. As he looks at Lyr, his forest green eyes gleam in the starlight, giving them an unearthly shimmer as the smaller man approaches.

He speaks lowly, his baritone voice rumbling through the air towards Lyr. "I trust that you found what it was you were looking for." Rhotha'ah quirks an eyebrow to the black sky, making his statement become a question in the verbal and facial admixture language he was taught since he was only a young child.

[Gralhruk]

Aleina

As she stands on the porch she pauses for a moment, her ice blue eyes so intent it almost seems they will bore holes in the solid oak. It was the third warning she would deliver this evening, the third time she would arrive unannounced to deliver ill news. Three, she knew, was a mystical number - a fact that does little to appease her. Taking a deep breath she raises her hands and knocks: once, twice . . . three times, submitting to the will of the unknown.

Time crawls by, certainly less than it seems, and she glances back at the Dorn. At least he hadn't taken her request as some sort of insult, as she half thought he might. She hadn't lied to him, but her purpose had been less to guard her belongings and more to keep the man from disrupting her discussion with the mayor.

Just as she is hoping he won't answer her knock, the door swings open. Lusk was even more tired than he'd appeared through the window.

"No, you don't know me, but I will not beg your pardon for - unless my eyes decieve me - you were not sleeping. I know why, and that is what I have come to discuss. That is, unless you have something better to do, good Mayor."

[Cadrius]

Aleina

The man's face hardens at Aleina's words and it's clear his mind had been dwelling on such a topic, but he does not look to appreciate the young woman's words. He straightens a bit, shoulders momentarily shaking off fatigue. He takes her in again, deciding that she bears a second examination. When he speaks, his voice is cordial, a trait that has likely served him well throughout his term as Mayor, but Aleina thinks she can detect irritation lurking just beneath the surface, and why not? He likely suspects he'll simply hear what he already knows, what he's already struggling against. The only thing worse than receiving ill-news, is to have it beaten over your head.

"Speak quickly then, madam," he says, keeping his voice low, "if you truly know why I was awake. I would invite you in but my wife and children sleep and I couldn't be seen taking in one like that." He nods his head toward the dorn and Aleina briefly wonders if there's some new bounty of the northmen that she had been unaware of, but the shape of Rhotha'ah's bastard sword across his back rectifies this. To bear weapons and armor is a serious offense, and the mayor would risk much to harbor one. Then again, he'd already risked everything this evening.

[Gralhruk]

Aleina

She nods her head slowly at the mayor, as if measuring his response against some inner compass. He was despereate, that much was certain; desperate enough to ignore her intentionally undiplomatic opening.

"Very well. That one - ", she looks towards Rhotha'ah, "- spied a troupe bearing torches and moving this way; they will be here in less than an hour."

She pauses for just a moment to assess the look on Lusk's face before continuing. News to him, no doubt, though -by itself- it might mean nothing. Nor did she have more proof than the Dorn's word. There was something else, though, something that might sway the man enough to believe her.

"I've spoken with your new healer, also. He senses the gravest of danger headed this way, some evil far beyond the scope of mere orcs. What it is I cannot say, but I believe him."

There is urgency in her voice and she delivers her message with all of the sincerity and certainty she feels in her soul. Aleina waits for a response, her strange eyes riveted to his face, praying that her third warning will be heeded.

[Cadrius]

Aleina, Rhotha'ah, and Lyr

She wasn't certain what reaction the Mayor would have given her news; shock certainly, perhaps anger, or even despair, but instead he merely closes his eyes and sighs. The brief surge leaves him, his shoulders slumping back to their previous position. He looks resigned to his fate. It seems very little can surprise this man, despite the mention of fire and an unnamed evil.

"We cannot clean our mess in time," he says, running his hand through his dark hair while his eyes look past Aleina, at something likely only seen in his mind's eye, "and we certainly cannot stand against them if there are as many as your friend says. I wonder if they would have even looked for a reason before setting us alight. Orcs seldom need cause for destruction though."

Aleina is suddenly aware of another's presence and hears Rhotha'ah greet Lyr. She casts a brief glance before looking back to the Mayor. Lyr's appearance looks to have brought him back to the present and he nods his head to the man.

"Master a'Corian. Why am I not surprised you are involved here tonight? An interesting man, indeed."

He turns to face Aleina again, his face still resigned but his eyes are still attentive.

"What would you have me do, madam? If we're lucky, all they will want is to steal from our larders and terrorize a few farmers. Rousing the town will stir up fear. I'm told orcs feed off that."

[Black Plauge]

Heulwen

"Nothing," Heulwen sighs in relief. There was nothing to be seen, either in the town or to the east of it. A fire should have been clearly visable against the black night and she could find nothing. Besides, Cytaill had settled down again, seemingly undisturbed by her own feelings of fear.

Taking another bite of the bread, Heulwen carefully stores the rest of the loaf before bedding down again. She would get an early start tommorow as she had planned. The healer must have been worried enough to get out quickly because of his patient. She was sure to make better time than he, especially with Cytaill's help...

[Dirigible]

Lyr

The first thing Lyr sees, approaching Lusk's home is the mountainous, chiselled physique of Rhotha'ah looming over a placid mule, a stones throw from the house. He approaches, not making any pretence at stealth (Yes, we saw how effective that was earlier, didn't we?).

He nods to the Dorn's question, unconsciously settling the straps of his satchel on his shoulder. "Yes, I did, thank you." He hurries past, seeing Aleina speaking to the Mayor, moves to her side. She turns slightly, brilliant blue eyes watching him from sculpted profile, and he feels a lifting surge within him that banishes the night's chill, albeit for a moment. Lyr gives her a slight smile.

"Greetings again, ser," he says to the mayor with a respectful inclination of his head. "I strive not to be, though circumstances make all our intentions foolish."

He listens to Lusk's responce, and a shadow of grief crosses his face. "I'm afraid you may be right. Time and position are against us."

[Kahluah]

Rhotha'ah

Rhotha'ah listens silently to the conversation unfold, all but physically feeling the small woman's disdain of him as she calls him "this one", as if he were a burden to her escaping this town in the dead of night, leaving its citizens to their own defenses. He starts walking towards the trio slowly so as not to appear foreboding, attempting to lead the mule at his side along with him.

"If I might interject a suggestion, chieftain," he says as he lowers his gaze to the Mayor's mouth rather than his eyes, his right fist crossing his chest to sit on the front his left shoulder, "but I would offer my services to watch what these raiders would do. If they are, as you say, coming only to pillage the eating halls, then our warning has been in vain and your people may rest. However, if they are more than just orcs, or begin to do more than steal your food, then we will need to wake your people so they may have a chance at escape."

He sighs a little, the anger shown in his clenching jaw subsiding into a resignation to memory. "It is in my experience, chieftan, that these portents do not bode well for any except those who incite such actions, and I would lend myself to your aid, at least for this eve, if you would have it."

OOC: This will only happen if Rhotha'ah was close enough to have heard the conversation transpire between Lusk and Aleina - if not, then I'll edit accordingly.

[Gralhruk]

Aleina

"What would you have me do, madam? If we're lucky, all they will want is to steal from our larders and terrorize a few farmers. Rousing the town will stir up fear. I'm told orcs feed off that."

What indeed?

Instead of answering the mayor, she waits for Lyr to step forward. It was, after all, his errand they were on. Let him answer that difficult question. She supresses the annoyance that surges up at Lyr's response. They were wasting valuable time on this endeavor and all Lyr could say is there was nothing to be done?

The dorn chooses that moment to step forward, Bombur in tow. The mule seemed to like him well enough - he wasn't terribly picky, but anyone Bombur didn't like made her suspicious. She almost rolls her eyes at the man's predictable suggestion: stay and fight. Instead, she keeps her face relaxed and composed. Her intent had been to focus as little attention on Rhotha'ah as possible. Holding this conversation outside and within earshot of the big man hadn't helped, though. She clears her throat slightly to get Lusk's attention once again and, hopefully, to steer this conversation back to being a warning instead of the offer for help it was turning out to be.

"I am not the Mayor of this town, nor am I versed in it's workings or routines. Doubtless you know best how to take care of your own. Haven't you any contingency for such an occurence? Surely there are instances where it is better to flee than stay; you must have a plan for such a thing."

[Cadrius]

Heulwen

Bedding down again, the halfling slips back into her dreams, but this time she's not haunted by a dark shadow, nor is she warned by an enigmatic man. Her dreams are of rolling plains and rushing breezes. She doesn't know it exactly, but she dreams of her home in the days before the Shadow fell. Her ancestors lead a nomadic life, and so does she, and although she strays from her homelands, she still continues her race's tradition, in more ways than one.

The halfling's breathes deeply in her sleep, her lungs relishing the fresh air and glad to be away from the stink and the filth of her captives. Beside her Cytaill snores ever so slightly.

Aleina, Rhotha'ah, and Lyr

The mayor chuckles grimly, although Aleina suspects there might a slight undercurrent of humor in it, buried amidst the resignation.

"You must be a mighty warrior indeed, Master Dorn, to carry weapons so brazenly and offer your blade to defend my meager town. No, no. I don't think that shall be necessary. Plans? My dear child, our relative isolation has long protected us. Certainly we have plans, contingencies, but they've never been used. The Shadow finds it more useful to have a town that minds its business than one burned to the ground. If it becomes bad, Stafford is to blow a horn three times and the town, those that are able, is to flee. But where? Ah, yes. Wherever they can. Some have relatives in Baden's Bluff, some can head for the Eren, some will go to the woods, and some will die rather than lose their homes. I cannot fault any decision they might make, but as Mayor my job is to protect more than my people. I must protect my town as well. I'm not much without Kingscross and I'm no good if they're killed and their farms burned because I put up a fight. No, we shall weather this as best we can. We have to."

He draws a deep breath and sighs, seeming to consider what he just said. The silence falls back over those assembled, but it feels a little less oppressive. Unconcerned with the affairs below, the stars continue to shine.

[Dirigible]

Lyr

Watching Aleina, Lyr din't know whether to laugh, frown in anger or merely sigh. A few hours ago, she was wisely ready to glide out of Kingscross under the cover of darkness... small cover from the Shadow's soldiers... yet I begged her to stay. And now, I counsel leaving them to their fate, while she offers aid? Where, when did we exchange roles?

For some reason, he felt uncomfortable at having disappointed her. Now, why would that be?

Turning slowly to face the mayor, Lyr gives him a sombre look. "Master Lusk, I trust that you know what is best for your people... and your home. It was presumptuous of me to try and interfere. I am sorry if our presence here has caused you any added difficulty or worry. Though I think," he glances at Aleina, "that we will not be a concern to you much longer."

[Berova]

Dun

Seeing Lyr, Aleina, and Rhotha'ah speaking with what must be Mayor Lusk, Dun approaches with a purposeful gait. Still breathing a bit heavily from his run, Dun speaks up, "My apologies one and all for the intrusion ... but curiousity got the best of me ... so I had gone out and located the figures bearing torches Rhotha'ah reported. I can confirm they are indeed not Orcs, but men. There were but three men who bore torches, escorting a fourth."

[Kahluah]

Rhotha'ah

The Dorn raises an eyebrow once more at the third Erenlander's words. "And where did you locate these three torches? Did you travel as far as the brook where I met you earlier? If not, you found the wrong men, for there were several dozen that I could see, and they were still a fair ways off at that time, and I assure you that I would rather fall upon my own sword than lie about something as grave as this."

Rhotha'ah's green-eyed gaze fall upon Dun, his jaw unclenched, as he waits for an answer.

[Berova]

Dun

Dun returns Rhotha'ah gaze and simply replies, "I went beyond the brook. I do not challenge the veracity of your report, so there is no need for anyone to fall upon their own sword tonight. I merely stated I was close enough to see 3 men carrying torches, escorting a fourth man. They were obviously not Orcs and they are far off no more. Now, does that mean they did not split off from a larger group (of Orcs)? There is no tellin' though I'd venture ... they aren't far off at all. Moreover, the Orcs that you'd seen could well have put out their torches and possibly broken down into smaller groups as they make their approached. Perhaps the 4 are collaborators, advance scouts if you will. At any rate, I find 4 men traveling in the dead of night a might bit suspicious."

[Dirigible]

Lyr

Lyr looks between the two taller men, uncertain, and hoping that the prideful threatening of their stances comes to nothing.

"If they have divided their numbers, they may have encircled the town. Leaving... may prove to be difficult."

[Gralhruk]

Aleina

"What need does a raiding party have of secrecy?"

It was true enough. The orcs came and took what they wanted; fleeing from them typically made things worse. She looks over at Lusk.

"If this were merely a raiding party they would not bother with stealth or with trying to prevent escape. They would be confident that none would flee, and confident of their ability to track down any who did. It points to something else, to something bad enough that they expect people to run."

[Cadrius]

Aleina, Rhotha'ah, Lyr and Dun

Lusk opens his mouth to reply but is beat to the punch by another. A voice floats across the air from behind the five of them. Dun and Lyr are reminded of a drink that had been served at the festival. Two liquors were mixed together, one sweet, one bitter, but instead of mixing they separated with the honey flavored resting on top. So too is it with his voice. It's warm, seductive, but there's the faintest hardness to it.

"What indeed? What would a raiding party want with such a quiet, Shadow-fearing town? Nothing that I could imagine. No. They haven't been holding unsanctioned festivals. Nor have they harbored a dangerous man that is wanted by the legates. And there certainly isn't anyone bearing weapons. I can't imagine why a raiding party would come here. Not at all."

The man himself is difficult to see in the dim light. He's tall, they can tell that much and he looks to be wearing a good deal of dark clothing his shirt and cloak look to be lined with silver. His hair is dark as well and looks to either be short, or pulled back. He leans against the side of a nearby building with his head tilted to the side, watching those assembled with sharp, glittering eyes.

The three men behind him look to be doughty erenlanders, wrapped in furs to keep the chill out of their bones. They look to be unarmed and do not bear any torches. Still, their dark companion is unmistakable to Dun and he recognizes them as those he had seen earlier. The three men flank the speaker and watch those assembled with a detached interest.

[Gralhruk]

Aleina

The wind had started in the frozen north, travelling league upon league in it's journey southward. Through dornish lands it whipped the stiff banners of orc and legate, through the elvish wood it chilled sylvan fingers poised on icy bowstrings. Into the heart of the Erenland it swept without resistance, leaving a blanket of cold dread in it's wake, pushing a misty shadow of cloud before it. Those clouds now swept across the ghoulish moon and that icy wind now stole it's way up Aleina's back in dulcet tones as the stranger speaks.

She can see Lusk's eyes widen, the fear pushing aside the tiredness. For a moment she is rooted to the ground with horror, her mind belatedly processing those honeyed words. The Dorn was obviously the one with illegal weapons but who was the other? Dun? Lyr? She doesn't know but there is one saving grace: they do not name a practioner of magic among the outlaws.

As she has done so many times before, she buries her fear beneath the cloak of superiority. Before the others can react, she turns to face the accuser, her eyes like sapphire lances. Her bearing speaks the words disturb me at your peril with a voice all it's own.

"Dangerous accusations to make in the dark of the night. It were wiser to leave lest you find the trouble you seem to look for."

<OOC: Oh, bloody hell. Force of Personality (Intimidate Foes) at +5.>

[Kahluah]

Rhotha'ah

The Dorn, not caring for the edicts of the Shadow or their fiends, turns his head to look at the quartet of accusers. He returns an icy glare of a winter forest, all the warmth of his green eyes leeching away with the implied threat of violence bubbling beneath his skin.

He turns his wide body towards the dark man and his trio of guards, allowing them to have a glimpse of the strength contained within, all as he searches the darkness of the man's face, trying to discern whether it was he whom he had taken the chunk of porcelain mask from with his own sword.

[Berova]

Dun

Dun's nerves on a knife's edge, his senses hyper-sensitive ... even as he steels himself against the possibility of pandemonium breaking out at any second. He takes in the four interlopers and the reactions to them without exhibiting any emotion. He doesn't even flinch at the dark man's accusation, it's as if he did not hear them. Dun believes he is starting to understand the dark man's game but the question is, he asks himself, "does the stranger realize the danger in his game?" Dun, of course, already knows the answer, "Of course HE does." just as he already knows the stranger, at least those like him.

But what of this woman, this Aleina? What is she doing? Dun instantly concludes, she aims to test him... a dangerous dance milady.

They say appearances can be deceiving, in this case, they are so deceptive, they are downright blatant. Nevertheless, Dun realizes larger stakes are at risk. He maintains a silent calm that seems to come naturally to him in contrast the storm that is brewing from all sides.

[Dirigible]

Lyr

"...Nor have they harbored a dangerous man that is wanted by the legates..."

Every muscle locks up. His belly turns to ice.

"...Nor have they harbored a dangerous man that is wanted by the legates..."

Lyr stares at the man, half-blind with fear, but soon his eyes begin to move of their own accord, seeking out routes of escape.

Suddenly, Aleina steps forward, hands on hips, and snaps at the ...legate, presumably... and his men. Though harsh and startling, Lyr finds her words oddly comforting... the courage and aggressivness affects him by proxy, and his respect for her burgeons anew.

Lyr does his best to steel himself, assuming a posture and expression of confident, prepared calm that he scarecly feels. He may be no use here, but at least ca can stop detracting form the other's intimidation efforts.

[Cadrius]

Heulwen

She awakens with a start, suddenly feeling very afraid. Glancing at Cytaill reveals him to be up as well. His eyes blink once as they watch the town to the south. She feels cold, like a chill gust of wind had just brushed over them. Goosebumps dance along her arms and legs and she shivers. Yet she cannot shake the feeling that something is wrong.

Eyes flitting about the ruins reveal nothing unusual; no monsters lurk in the shambles of this old fortress. Cytaill does not growl, but he does remain alert. Suddenly feeling very small, Heulwen searches the countryside once more. Kingscross is still as it was when she had last seen it. No torches flicker in the distance. Everything appears to be fine. She tries to blame it on a nightmare as she has plenty of those reliving the terrible events from her life as a slave. It makes sense. Bad dreams frequently leave her feeling worried or afraid. The lack of any obvious danger sets her more at ease as well.

Dun, Rhotha'ah, Lyr, and Aleina

There's an art to speaking. It's hard to say how it works, but the inflection of a word, the subtle tone of voice, even a raised eyebrow can change the meaning of a sentence. A person with the gift of a silver tongue can sway opinions to their own, and a trained orator is truly a sight to behold. Aleina tries her hand at this, pitching her voice a little lower than usual, hoping she can have it resonate with implied power. To her ears, and the ears of her companions, it does.

"Dangerous accusations to make in the dark of the night. It were wiser to leave lest you find the trouble you seem to look for."

Lusk, Dun, Lyr, and even the dorn, Rhotha'ah, are taken aback. It isn't the words that cause an unsettled feeling. It isn't easily defined; Lyr sees it as the way she holds herself, Dun detects outright danger in her voice, and to Rhotha'ah she looks a little taller. They suddenly become acutely aware that they know very little about the beautiful erenlander. Each experience their own singular emotion; Lyr while buoyed by Aleina is still nervous, bordering on fearful, Dun remains calm but is becoming increasingly uncertain of who exactly he's associating with, fury burns within Rhotha'ah, attempting to channel his previous rage into intimidating these man, and Aleina remains within her cloak of confidence unwilling to let doubt leak into her mind.

A chill breeze sweeps through Kingscross, sending cloaks and hair fluttering, but no one there notices. Aleina's eyes are locked with the dark-haired man. The three men behind him look more alert, noting the Dorn's obvious display of his strength and size. No one moves, and it's difficult to tell if anyone even breathes. There's a sense of anticipation, as if town itself has stopped to watch the confrontation.

There's an old saying among the elves the claims a person's eyes are the gateway to their spirit. Staring into the man's eyes Aleina sees nothing but an impenetrable murk, and she cannot tell what lurks in its depths. His gaze is greeted by nothing but the frigid chill of her ice-colored eyes. His face twists slowly into smile and he begins to chuckle before shaking his head in disbelief. When he speaks his voice is full of mirth.

"Children, children," he says, laughing again, "Do you really think this has anything to do with you? I could care less about what laws you've broken. You're nothing more than a speck to us. My quarry is the healer in town. Where is he? By our estimates he arrived here several weeks ago. Should he be delivered to me, all is well. You can continue about your law-less ways. At least until a legate or patrol comes along."

"But if he isn't handed over" --his voice becomes soft, and full of threat in a way that even Aleina cannot not manage-- "every man, woman, and child in this town will die."

[Black Plauge]

Heulwen

Her rationalizations may put her more at ease, but there was little denying that she wasn't getting a proper nights sleep tonight. Sitting up next to Cytaill, Heulwen places her sword in her lap and joins him in his vigil over Kingscross. If she couldn't sleep at least she would keep Cytaill company.

[Kahluah]

Rhotha'ah

From the corner of his eye, the Dorn watches Aleina's display of personality with a sense of something, pride maybe, welling up inside. As he watches in his peripheral vision, his mind flashes back to the night the raiders came. Watching the women of his tribe rise up and fight the masked marauders, seeing them unarmored and still pressing onwards in the dim light of the settlement's bonfire, attacking with whatever weapon came to hand. As the flashback ends, he sees for a moment the image of a Dornish warrior woman superimposed over the slight woman's frame before it disappears.

"But if he isn't handed over, every man, woman, and child in this town will die."

As the dark-clothed man offers his ultimatum to them, Rhotha'ah's blood boils, barely contained within him. His eyes narrow to green-hued slits, and his jaw clenches so tight his teeth threaten to shatter under the pressure. He grips the sheathed sword tightly in his hand, knuckles turning a pale ghost white in the process. He keeps his mouth shut, lest his words cause the town's only form of protection - the small group gathered in the street now - to be cut down prematurely, leaving the town of Kingscross defenseless.

[Dirigible]

Lyr

This time, fear brings no stasis. It makes the blood pound, the heart scream, anything to avert that horrible threat which the Shadow-servant is no doubt capable of delivering on. Strangely, within that fear, there is warm, wonderful clarity and peace; they are not after me. Then there is guilt, for taking relief when so many could die in his place.

Heart racing. They are but four... but he will have left orders to raze Kingscross should he not return. Or is he too arrogant to foresee his own death? No, only the Dorn carries a weapon... but neither do they. Strange, he does not carry himself like a legate. Was that Healer more than he seemed, to warrant such a forceful hunting party?

His neck muscles strain of their own accord, wanting to turn to look at Aleina, for confirmation, warning, she alone knows the Healer... No. Looking at her would tell the legate too much. Better to remain still, watching the Shadow-servant.

[Gralhruk]

Aleina

The wayward channeler should be relieved that her ruse hasn't backfired, glad even that this bounty hunter wasn't after her, but inside she feels only emptiness. The healer. He had known that something bad was coming for the town, had told her as much, but what he didn't say was that it was coming specifically for him. Had he taken her advice and fled? Probably, but the emptiness doesn't leave her. Her short time at his non-descript home had struck a nerve with her - it had been eerily like glimpsing her own shadowy future through a hazy fog of time. Someday, would it be her running from town to town with her pursuers only steps behind, her only crime healing people?

All of these thoughts churn beneath her otherwise calm exterior, waters silent but deep. What could any of them do to avert disaster?

Comply, and hope.

"I know of this healer. If giving you one prisoner will spare this town, I will lead you to him."

Her voice held the barest shadow of the power it wielded but a moment before. Defeat, regret, sorrow - all these rode like doom colored sails on the sea of guilt her voice had become. The others might well find this admission startling or see it as weakness. Yet they didn't know what she did: that the healer was probably already gone. If he wasn't, then they could decide to fight or not - hopefully with the healer's help. If he was gone, perhaps this bounty hunter would believe that they had no idea how to find him.

<OOC: Bluff +8.>

[Berova]

[Dun]

Dun wants to scream out to the Shadow paid lackey, "Bah! Orcs do what they will anyway!" but resists the urge, knowing full well staying silent will say far more than any words can.

So this woman knows of the healer ... the thought lingers but a split second. Somehow this did not come as a shock to Dun. What was shocking was that she would admit to it so openly to the collaborator. This woman intrigues Dun with each revelation by the minute. She is either foolhardy or a fool... what is her game? Does she have a death wish?? She is admitting she has knowledge of what they want???!

[Cadrius]

Aleina, Dun, Lyr, Rhotha'ah

His eyes narrow and bore into Aleina's own and she worries; worries that he knows everything that she does. Her mind dismisses it, knowing that this man couldn't possibly see into her thoughts, her memories. Still, his gaze is disquieting and it is only through strength of will that she does not avert her eyes. A moment passes, then two, and the man looks to be considering what she has said. Nothing else stirs in the heart of Kingscross.

A slight smile twiches at the side of his mouth and he inclines his head, accepting her proposal.

"Very well, show me where he is and I shall not deliver any harm to this town" --his eyes flash with danger-- " but I should warn you, I do not like ruses and have little patience for fools."

He watches Aleina a moment longer before nodding to his men. They step a side and he extends one arm out before him in a mock gallant gesture.

"After you, my lady."

They move through the street, Aleina and her retinue in the front with the man and his following closely behind them. Mayor Lusk trails behind them, looking reluctant to go but pride and duty pull him along. The walk feels deceptively long, although it takes but a dozen minutes. Silence rings them in once more and even the footfalls are muffled.

Shortly enough they reach the unassuming abode of the healer. The windows are dark and no smoke spirals out of the small brick chimney. It looks empty, alone, much like the way some of those assembled find themselves on this crisp autumn night. The man looks at the house with a raised eyebrow.

"This is where he lives," he says quietly, sounding bemused, "not quite as grand as before."

He moves to a house across the street and leans against the front, folding his arms over his chest. He appears to be little more than a silver-lined shadow except for his face. His eyes, those dark glittering eyes, never leave Aleina or her companions.

"Search it," he says, still looking at Aleina but undoubtedly speaking to his men. They vanish into the house through the unlocked front door. Almost immediately the sounds of overturned furniture and shattering pottery can be heard.

[Gralhruk]

Aleina

The dice have been cast, for good or ill, and now she must wait until they stop rolling to see how she fared. It was a dangerous game and she was beggared besides. If the eyes of the serpent looked up from the pit, she knew that the only coin left to her was blood. Luck and fate were identical twins here, and she truly didn't care which one showed up as long as it was on her side.

Aleina tries to keep her face calm as she meets her oppressor's ice rimmed gaze, but her stomach is clenched as hard as the forbidden steel of the Dorn's axe. She is terrified that the healer might still be here, horrified that she isn't sure what she would do if he was.

She is peripherally aware that Dun, Lyr and Rhotha'ah are still here, herded along with her. She had half-hoped that the stranger would leave them but nevertheless, their presence comforts her. If it came to a fight, though, she knew that she would be responsible for any harm that came to them.

Let the healer be gone. Let this man believe what I tell him.

[Dirigible]

Lyr

Let this man believe what I tell him.

Unbeknowst to them both, Lyr's prayer to the long-silent gods, a meaningless relic in this Age echoes Aleina exactly. The channeler... at this moment painfully aware of the technical nature of his profession, even as he is normally aware of his impotence in the field of praxis-magic... folds his arms nervously, stealing glance after glance at Aleina and the Shadow-agent. Has he seen the man before, possibly? At Voreen's tower?

[Berova]

Dun

Dun asks himself again what this woman's game is ... for surely she knows the healer was already gone ... but my she plays a dangerous game ...

She must hold life so cheap for if the healer indeed has already left as he surely have must, he could not have had an insurmountable lead ... and where mere minutes may mean life and death ... she may very well have signed his death warrant ... the game of pawns continue apace. She may have spelled their deaths as well for that matter.

Dun makes no overt action to alarm the stranger barking orders. He simply watches as events unfold before him, confident he will know what to do when the time is right.

[Kahluah]

Rhotha'ah

The barbarian stands stalwartly, watching the dwelling even as the brigands destroy property of the tenant within it. He silently kerbs his anger at what these men are doing, and his anger at himself for not doing anything to stop it. His meaty hand clenches around the hilt of the large sword he carries, knuckles turning white from the pressure.

Allowing the woman to continue her work in keeping the people of this settlement alive, Rhotha'ah stands quietly, barely breathing as if waiting for the terrible moment that the township comes under attack.

[Cadrius]

Dun, Rhotha'ah, Lyr, and Aleina

Several more minutes pass with nothing but the muffled crashes of the three men as they seach the small house. It's mostly the deep thuds and scrapes of furniture being overturned and shoved about. All the while the man outside, the silver-lined shadow, does nothing but watch those present. Mayor Lusk looks increasingly nervous and pulls a cloth from his pocket and dabs at his brow. He's sweating although it's much too cold for such things.

At last the three men emerge empty handed. One, a rugged looking man with a pock-marked face shakes his head once. Their leader sighs, steam arching upward from his lips, and pushes himself away from the house he had been leaning upon. They form a line behind him while he advances forward, stopping a few paces from the young woman.

"You said you would lead me to him," he says simply, looking directly at Aleina, "yet here we are, alone and without the...healer. Where did he go, my lady?"

His head is tilted to the side, watching her intently. His voice remains civil, but Aleina thinks she can detect irritation beginning to build beneath it.

[Gralhruk]

Aleina

The tension outside builds as the stranger attempts to bore holes in her with his eyes. She is intensely aware of his scrutiny, and her stomach lurches with each crash and bang from the small cottage. Whether they found the man or not she knew their would be a price to pay. Despite the fear, she keeps herself erect and stern, unwilling to display her inner turmoil.

She should be relieved when the thugs emerge alone, but her stomach twists until she folds her arms over it. The stranger approaches, head canted like an inquisitory bird, and halts in front of her. Beneath his crystal cold surface she senses the building storm.

"Where did he go, my lady?"

She hadn't expected this to go well no matter the outcome of the search, but confronted with his cool question her own anger flares, driving some of the chill fear from her mind. With the fear is uncertainty, and she finds herself flustered by his expectation.

"I am no seer, to tell you that. He is a healer, and from what I hear active in this town. Perhaps he is off treating someone."

[Cadrius]

Dun, Rhotha'ah, Lyr, and Aleina

"Off healing someone," he says, voice dripping with the acrid tone of sarcasm, "yes, I bet he is. What a noble soul." He smirks.

One of the three follows, the one bearing the pocked face, approaches the man in black and whispers something inaudible. The man's eyes narrow at the words and he raises one hand sharply, cutting off the exchange. The pocked one steps back and resumes his position with the other two. A chill breeze sweeps through, leaving a cold caress along the faces and hands of those present. Above, the stars watch the scene play out impassively.

The man in black's eyes move to the house and his voice is flat, "Gone."

He watches the house for a time, his gaze looking unfocused, distant. The three men with him watch him, appearing to look for a sign. A moment passes, and then two, and suddenly the man's eyes come back into focus. He draws a deep breath and exhales, sending a plume of steam jetting into the autumn night.

"He rides, north. Come!" And with that, the four of them set off, setting a quick pace back through the village. They reach the far end of the street and then disappear around the corner of the mayor's house.

Silence reigns over Kingscross.

[Kahluah]

Rhotha'ah

As the four men disappear into the night to track down the purported healer, a palpable blanket of silence spreads across the town so think that even the insects dare not make a sound. The Dorn releases his knickle-white grip on the sword and scabbard, the leather sheath giving a soft sigh as it is released.

"The settlement still stands, at least for now, so why then do I feel that this was not the last of our troubles this eve?" He speaks, looking at the rag-tag group that are assembled outside the violated home of the healer.

[Gralhruk]

Aleina

She waits tensely for the stranger's response, almost certain he will lash out. Instead, he does the last thing that she expects: he and his men leave them and the town unharmed, somehow picking up the healer's trail and following it like the wolves they seemed to be. Their departure seems to drag a piece of her soul along with them, leaving a void deep within her.

"The settlement still stands, at least for now, so why then do I feel that this was not the last of our troubles this eve?"

The dorn's voice intrudes on her sorrow but her eyes stay unfocused and fixed on the spot where the stranger had stood only moments before. If she had delayed this man somehow, the healer would have a better chance to escape. Had she doomed him?

"I don't know."

Her voice is small, the words seemingly spoken to herself. The town stood and that was something, but it was a bitter victory and she is left with the overripe taste of failure on her tongue.

[Kahluah]

Rhotha'ah

The Dorn's face grows just a touch softer as he watches Aleina, once more reminded of the surviving people back in his tribe, seeing a similar expression on their memorial faces as they threw the bodies of lovers, children, parents, and siblings onto the funerary pyres.

He closes his eyes tightly and shakes his head, trying to force the memory back down, before opening them again and looking to the other two men of the group. "So, what is it we do now? The men have not what they came for, so might press in an attack anyway, or they might not."

He rests his hand on the nape of the mule's thick neck, rubbing coarse fingers through it's matted mane as he waits for Dun and Lyr to answer, hoping to take at least a little of the worry off of the woman.

[Berova]

Dun

So, what is it we do now? The men have not what they came for, so might press in an attack anyway, or they might not.

"No. They're on their way hot on the heels of that healer."

Dun turns his gaze to Aleina, "If he did not pack light, I'd recken they'd be on him by morning, if they're any good at what they do. If he did ... well, there's no point in speculating." Dun adds, "KingsCross will be alright ... from their hands, and for now, at least..."

He steals a glance at the mayor as he completes his thought, "...until the Orcs come ... later tonight of the coming day."

[Dirigible]

Lyr

Dourly stroking his chin, the crippled channeler watches the four men move off into the night. He hopes the others around him don't see the unmanly shiver of relief that oscilates his spine.

Slowly marshalling the words, he offers "It may be that, with that hunter gone, the rest of the raid will proceed in a more... tyoical manner. If that is the case, with the Healer gone, it may be best if we outsiders leave as well. That will give your people the added virtue of veracity when you deny our presense." He pauses, uncomfortably glancing at Lusk.

[Cadrius]

Heulwen

Forgoing the comofort of a wogren pillow, Heulwen begins her vigil. Sharp halfling eyes survey the town, searching here and there for any potential signs of danger or her newfound friends. At one point she thinks a couple of torches can be seen moving through the center of town and her heartrate quickens. Yet it can't be any sort of raiding party, only a couple flickers of light. Likely carried by some revelers stumbling back to their homes.

Minutes pass, ten then twenty, and fatigue begins to slowly weave its way back into her consciousness when the waver of torchlight seizes her attention. Instinctively the halfling hunches down, making herself smaller. Small, glittering eyes peek around the corner of a ruined wall, straining to see who's coming up the path.

After a few moments of watching she sees three torches and what looks to be four men, setting a quick pace. None of the forms look familiar, and certainly don't resemble Feyd, Aleina, or Stafford. Cytaill's ears twitch, and while he remains prone, Heulwen can see the wogren is awake and alert.

The men look to be passing by the ruins and she breathes a mental sigh of relief. The last thing she'd need is to attempt to deal with four potentially hostile men. And then it happens. The fourth man, well dressed in silver-lined black clothing says a quiet word and causes the other three to come to a halt.

The fourth begins to peer about the ground, looking for something, most likely tracks. He kneels and runs his hand across the hard packed soil before dusting them off and standing.

"He stopped here, but not for long," the man says, eyes roaming across the ruins. They almost fall onto Heulwen, but the halfling has the presence of mind to duck back behind the wall. "He continued north. I think I know where."

"Baden's Bluff?" One of the accompanying men asks.

"No, too dangerous for someone like him there. He can't resist calling attention to himself."

Nodding, one of the men asks, "What of the orcs? Should we send word?"

"No. Let them figure it out. Their business is with the town, our's is far greater. Come, we have ground to cover."

Saying no more, the four men quickly disappear, moving down the hill and eventually out of Heulwen's eyesight. Once again she finds herself alone but for Cytaill's companionship.

Dun, Rhotha'ah, Lyr, and Aleina

They each feel uneasy, and understandably so. By intention or accident, it seems that the town of Kingscross was saved at the expense of an unknown healer's life. Despite their arcane backgrounds, neither Aleina nor Lyr can ascertain the stranger's ability to track the healer. Feeling disquieted they turn their attention to Lusk.

He mops his brow once more with the small bit of cloth clutched in his hand. The mayor shouldn't be sweating, but then again strangers shouldn't be threatening to kill every man, woman, and child within the town. He looks to each of them in turn: the attractive woman, the scholarly man, the wild Dorn, and the merchant's son. Yet if he's looking for answers, he doesn't appear to find any in their eyes.

As if on cue, a breeze sweeps through Kingscross providing an interruption to the silence.

"I think it would be best if you did. I...I appreciate all that you've done," he says, sounding uncertain as to whether he believes his own words or not.

Turningh is back on the others, Lusk begins to slowly walk back up the street and to his home, leaving the rest to look at each other uncertainly.

[Black Plauge]

Heulwen

Thank the distant gods that I didn't go back to sleep, Heulwen thinks as she watches the strangers disappear, barely daring to breath, They're obviously tracking some one... They must be who the healer was fleeing from. He's the only one to have been around here recently and he stop in almost the exact spot where the man said their quarry had stopped.

Realizing the danger the healer might be in, Heulwen is half tempted to saddle Cytaill and ride to catch and warn the healer, but that course of action would only serve to reveal her own presence to the strangers. The healer was already fleeing, indeed from the sound of it these men had been tracking him for some time, and with his patient he was unlikely to be capable of making better speed than he alread was.

I hope that dwarf is in a better state before those men catch up with the healer. I'm willing to bet he could give them a run for their money in any confrontation.

Gazing back towards the town, Heulwen allows the rest of what she overheard to sink in.

So, there are orcs coming, and they aren't too far behind. Looking beyond the town to the south and east, Heulwen tries to decide what to do next.

The town already knows of the coming orcs. These four men are unlikely to have stopped to dissuade them of that notion, even if they could. They seem fairly intent on tracking the healer. I'd be willing to bet that they only stopped in town long enough to ascertain that the healer was gone and which direction he was going.

Come to think of it the man's tracking technique was strange. Creeping forth from her hiding place, Heulwen studies the ground where the man had knelt down, looking for the tracks he had seen.

[Kahluah]

Rhotha'ah

Watching the Mayor of Kingscross cut a retreat to his home, Rhotha'ah watches any opportunity of obtaining the answers he needs disappear into the night alongside him. The first tinge of sadness crosses his face as his knotted jaw slackens a touch, the fire of the resolve within threatening to die from the opressive regime of hopelessness that pervades every being and building in this settlement.

He turns his head back to the three Erenlanders, the pain of his defeat, of his broken oaths, raw across his face. "What now?"

[Gralhruk]

Aleina

"What now?"

Her troubled stare follows the mayor for a moment, but finally she looks over at Rhotha'ah, then Dun, and finally rests her eyes on Lyr. The doubt is gone; her gaze is ice-white and crystal clear. For good or ill, they had left the healer to his fate. Now was not the time for second guesses, and the Mayor had touched on the course they must now pursue.

"We have warned those in positions of power. We have fended off the unexpected. I cannot speak for each of you, but what little I can do here has been done."

The moonlight rims the hooded edge of her great grey cloak, tracing her form in silver.

"I will do as the mayor asked and depart. You are -each of you- welcome to come with me. I have no destination in mind, but from what has transpired here tonight I feel that we share enough of the same ideals that it would be good for us to walk the same road, at least for a time."

[Dirigible]

Lyr

Lyr almost starts when she turns to look at him, but after hearing her words, nods gratefully. As always, Aleina's ability to switch from deepest empathy to cold self-interest in less time it takes her pale eyes to blink. For a moment, he studies her an a thoughful introspection; Perhaps she asks only out of a need for armed and capable companions... or perhaps there is some human feeling under the winter mantle. He pulls himself away from those speculations; Doubtless she can look after herself. A more capable woman I have yet to meet.

He then glances around at the two taller men. He has his doubts about the ogrish Dorn, but the man has shown remarkable restrainted for a wild-born savage, not to mention one that is a catapult rope of coiled rage. Lyrs expressive lips tighten in a inwardly-directed grimace for a moment; Or perhaps that is just a symptom of my biased education. Much to his surprise, he finds he trusts Dun implicitly; the Erenlander is too open and friendly to suspect of ill will.

Lyr settles his satchel on his shoulders and addresses the small group. "If we are to leave, would it be foolish to suggest we travel south, in the opposite direction to that shadowing hound and his pack?"

[Gralhruk]

Aleina

Aleina frowns at Lyr before the slightest smile touches her lips.

"Foolish? No, it would not be foolish. I must go North first, though; just for a little, then we may choose our path."

The halfling might be waiting there, and she did not want to abandon the runaway. Of course, she didn't want to explain her reasons just yet. When they were out of town, perhaps, where there would be no eyes or ears on them.

[Kahluah]

Rhotha'ah

The Dorn nods to his newfound companions before dropping his belongings on the floor. "It would honor me to travel with you, at least for the time being." Managing a meager smile, he proceeds to walk with the three Erenlanders, sword strapped to his back and his armor and belongings coiled under his arm.

He thumbs the now visible amulet of blackened porcelain, a distant look haunting his face. "I have not forgotten my oaths. I will avenge." He says in his native tongue, his normally baritone-bass voice reduced to a whisper as he remembers.

[Berova]

Dun

They don't even know what direction they are going, south or north, let alone a destination or purpose. So she is content to let the healer to his own fate, knowing the bounty hunters are hot on his heels; yet it is out of his and their hands now. The Dorn...so twisted in anger and vengeance, only the promise of death and destruction will follow. As for his fellow Erenlander, has he been so mezmerized by this cold beauty? He seems so different from only this morning. And yet, just what brings these outsiders together? Dun can come up with no answers.

As if to respond to an unasked question, Dun answers, "Yes, of course you all are right, our presence could be very unfortunate for the townspeople ... when the Orcs arrive. Leaving will be best for all concerned. Yet, I still have my personal matter to attend to before I may depart. So, while you run your errand up North, I may see to it and, perhaps, we can all meet at the tower as we had previously discussed, before heading South?"

[Dirigible]

Lyr

Lyr nods. "I too have something to retrive before we can leave... it should not take long."

[Berova]

Dun

I too have something to retrive before we can leave... it should not take long.

"Very well then, let us not tarry on our tasks and meet up at the ruined tower, take good care all."

With that, Dun bounds up the street quickly disappearing into the darkness.

[Dirigible]

Lyr
OOC: Let's pretend I didn't say I have soemthing to retrive. Because I don't.

Lyr takes a long glance at his colleagues, and then heads towards to the ruined tower to await the meeting. He keeps to the eaves and shadows of the town, silently wishing Kingscross good fortune and safety from its enemies.

[Gralhruk]

Aleina

She watches Dun depart through eyes half closed, pondering. There had been something in his gaze, a hint of accusation maybe, that left her second guessing her recent inaction. The feeling within her that the healer's nemesis was a powerful man had not ebbed; she still felt that crossing that one would have carried serious consequences. Yet to let the practicalities of the situation override the desire to help another . . .

Was it wisdom or folly? If they ended up dead here than there was no chance they would ever help another. Yet to let evil deeds occur unchecked was to give in to that evil. She closes her eyes briefly, measuring her feelings, and nothing has changed when they open once more. Dun is gone and Lyr and Rhotha'ah are waiting for her.

"We will go to the tower then, and wait there. I am not proud of what has happened here tonight, but I see no other recourse."

Lost in her thoughts, she follows Lyr as he departs, supressing a frown that they must slink like thieves from this town. When they near the tower, she bids her companions to wait while she investigates the ruin.

[Kahluah]

Rhotha'ah

The Dorn watches as the taller Erenlander runs off into the darkness, leaving the trio to their own devices until morning. As they slink out of the town, the barbarian is silent, pensive, thoughts of what could be happening to the women taken from his village struggling to control his thoughts.

Nearing the ruined tower, the woman bids them wait outside of it, and he nods, waiting with the mule and the smaller Erenlander. He stretches slightly before unrolling the bundle of equipment onto the ground. He drops the two small axes from the small of his back on the ground, and removes the dagger from his boot, examining each weapon in the pale moonlight, before proceeding to place the toughened hide armor over his large body.

He then slings the large sword over his back, the two axes at each hip, and the dagger back in his boot. He also hooks his quiver onto his hip, and carries the rough longbow in his hand. In this guise he looks even more imposing and ready for violence, and it's clear to see why he wouldn't wear it in any settlements.

[Dirigible]

Lyr

Strands of his dark hair catch against his cheeks as the slender man watches Aleina's graceful steps carry her into the embrace of the nocturnal forest. Strange, he muses, how simply being close to her for this scant hour has dulled the... what? That feeling of... reaching. As if my soul was striving to touch her from inside my skin. Pulling his cloak closer, Lyr gives a soft, forlorn sigh, tangled up in fear of his secrets being discovered, intoxicating fascination with the strange woman, and disorientation at the abruptness of their flight.

Lyr watches as the Dorn readies himself for war. Donning the vestments of carnage is, for Rhotha'ah, like adding the edge to an axe; it focuses and hardens the rage already present. Seeing such raw, untamed physical competance is... impressive.

The Erenlander strokes Bomburs mane, for both their sakes.

[Cadrius]

Everyone

Seconds pass by forming a minute on their way. That minute in turn spawns more minutes and each of them is plagued by worry, by doubt, and by uncertainty. They deal with it in different ways, but none are happy with the night's events. For the life that may be lost.

The former slave, Heulwen, finds herself very much alone in the ruins save her wogren companion. The men that track the healer have been gone for several minutes and her begins to slows its pace. Her briefly interrupted vigil resumes its sluggish pace and she idly wonders how long it will be until dawn. She waits a good while, longer than necessary, before scurrying forward and inspecting the tracks that the man had spoken about. They're present, she thinks, but they're faint, very faint. He'd need eyes as sharp as her's to pick them out, even with the torches present.

Dun returns from his errand, uncertain as to whether it was profitable. His three other companions have already passed and he makes his way out of town feeling very much alone in the autumn night. His feet pad softly against the packed dirt and his breath cleaves plumes of steam spiraling toward the stars. The stars provide a bit of light, but the young man's pace is slowed greatly in the darkness outside of Kingscross.

Aleina, Lyr, and Rhotha'ah move together, leaving each to their thoughts. The young woman knows the way to the tower well enough from her visit earlier in the day and has no trouble picking the less-used path that branches away from the road. Lyr shifts his bag a bit uncomfortably, the weight of his burden affecting him both physically and mentally. Rhotha'ah hardly notices the chill night, his dornish blood keeping him warm.

Heulwen sees another torch flicker its way up the hill. She watches it, carefully noting that it takes the path toward the tower and away from the road, much like the four men had previously. She peers for a long time before the forms begin to take shape. It appears to be two men, woman, and a mule. The woman she knows as Aleina, a surprisingly helpful human. Yet the other two are unknown. One looks to be normal enough, carrying a backpack, but the other looks dangerous. Something within her stirs at the sight of the large and heavily armed man. He looks like one well-suited to violence.

Upon reaching the ruins of the outer wall, Aleina signals for them to stop before moving in on her own. In the flickering of the light the crumbling stone structures look much larger and more menacing. The halfling had not built a fire; likely a wise decision given her fugitive status. She comes to a stop and peers in to the shadows, looking for Heulwen.

Moving out of town Dun can faintly make out a torch at the top of the hill that he had passed on his way into the town. He heads toward it, blind luck guiding him to the same faint path that the others took. However in the dim he catches his foot on a rock and crashes to the ground, scraping his hands and bumping his head. It fall jars his mind off of other matters, such as what exactly happened to his merchant father, Dura Abben.

Cytaill remains as silent as his halfling companion while the three humans approach the ruins. His keen eyes see as well as Heulwen's in such dim light. The wogren does not growl, but nor does he relax his guard. Perhaps he waits for some invisible cue.

[Gralhruk]

Aleina

Her eyes cannot penetrate the blackness surrounding the old stone structure and her ears detect no sounds of life. The place appeared empty, deserted. Heulwen may well have gone; it was well past the hour they had given the halfling. Still on edge from the recent encounter with menace, she calls out softly, not really sure what to expect.

"Heulwen? Are you still here? I would speak with you."

[Black Plauge]

Heulwen

Even I can barely find these tracks, Heulwen thinks as she studies the ground. However that man was following the healer's tracks was beyond the means normally avaliable to humans.

Glancing back towards town, Heulwen spies a torch approaching her postions and quickly gets back under cover. As the figures get closer she can make out the figure of Aleina, but who are these others that accompany her.

"Heulwen? Are you still here? I would speak with you."

And what if I wouldn't speak with you? Heulwen wonders as she observes Aleina. Who are these strangers that accompany you? Do they even know why you are here?

Replying in a soft voice that only Aleina has any chance of hearing, Heulwen says, "Speak. Who are these people you bring with you? And what has happened to Feyd?"

Taking advantage of her better vision, Heulwen quietly moves to another hiding place so that Aleina can't pin down her location.

[Gralhruk]

Aleina

She frowns and moves closer to where the halflings voice had come from. Feyd had apparently deserted her. She keeps her voice equally low, understanding Heulwen's reluctance.

"I don't know what happened to Feyd. He was going to retrieve my mule and meet me here, yet he has done neither of those things. As for those who are with me, they are Lyr a'Corian and Rhotha'ah. Another human, Dun Abben, will be along shortly.

"I have met them but recently, yet I believe they can be trusted or I would not be with them now. I have not told them my purpose for coming here, so if you do not wish to reveal yourself they need never know of your presence."

[Black Plauge]

Heulwen

Taking up her new position, Heulwen smiles as Aleina moves towards where she had been.

"What makes you beleive these others are trustworthy? And how do I know that you are not under threat from them? The larger certianly carries his weapons openly for one not allied to the Shadow."

Moving again, Heulwen tries to keep her exact position difficult to discern.

[Gralhruk]

Aleina

This time she neither moves nor turns towards the halflings voice. Instead she stands staring straight ahead, into the inky darkness. Why did she trust these strangers?

"Lyr was adamant about warning the Mayor of the danger of a raid. Rhotha'ah hates the shadow with every ounce of his considerable bulk, or I am a fool. Dun I do not know so well, but he is allied with Lyr, who has shown himself to be no shadow friend. All of them stood by me when we were accosted by one who was almost certainly in league with the Dark One.

"If I were under threat from them, could I not simply tell you now? What would you have me do to prove the purity of my intent?"

[Black Plauge]

Heulwen

"A valid question, but one that doesn't have a simple answer." Heulwen replies quietly.

"But you said you were accosted by one who was most certianly in league with the Shadow. This man was after this town's healer, was he not?"

[Gralhruk]

Aleina

"He was."

The two words drop like stones into an abyssal maw. There is resignation in her voice, though her bearing remains unchanged. This night seemed to go on forever and she pulls her cloak a little tighter against the chill.

"Something I would have said was difficult for a sequestered runaway to know."

[Black Plauge]

Heulwen

"A runaway I may be, but in a way we all are. At least I know what I run from. While others? They simply run," Heulwen replies.

"Sequestered, however, I am not. For even where you stand, so stood this man, this 'hunter,' but a little bit ago. Were it not for the fact that his attention was focused on the trail he was following, he might have found me despite the darkness. He was no ordinary man. He follows tracks that human eyes should not see and disturbs them as if unafraid of losing the trail."

Coming to a decision, Heulwen steps out of her hiding place, coming close enough that even Aleina's human eyes could seek her out in this light, though as little more than a shadow. Her clothing is obviously not what she wore before, for even in this light Aleina can see that she wears pants now, and not the divided skirt from before. One hand rests lightly on the pommel of a sword strapped to her side. The other on her hip.

"No," she continues, answering a question that only she had heard, "I don't think you lie. Indeed you come openly and at night when your kind is at their most vulnerable. So tell me, what is your intention, having danced with the Shadow and escaped unharmed?"

[Gralhruk]

Aleina

So, the healer passed this way - and spoke with Heulwen, else she would not know him or his pursuer. Coincidence or fate, that we should follow the same path as him who I failed to aid?

Her eyes pick out indistinct details in the gloom. The halfling looked ready to travel, with sturdy clothes and weapons ready. She ponders the question once again yet comes no closer than before in making a decision.

"I have no plans, of yet. When Dun arrives we will decide together. For my part, I fear for the healer, I fear for Kingscross, and I fear for you. The orcs will be coming soon and it seems no matter what choice I make, some will suffer."

[Berova]

Dun

With his head pounding, Dun makes his way toward the flickering light to the outer wall of the ruined tower, more carefully now, having learned from, and paid for, his carelessness. He still can't believe so lost in thought was he that he did not have the state of mind to tumble to break his fall.

Dun consciously decides not to hide his footfalls to make his approach known. From a short distance, he easily spots Bombur, but in due course, as he closes upon the decrepit wall, he spots the Dorn, Rhotha'ah and then Lyr as well. They appear to be waiting for something or someone ... yet the woman, Aleina, was nowhere to be seen.

[Kahluah]

Rhotha'ah

The Dorn, garbed in armor and weaponry, stands by the wall stoically, barely moving an inch as he waits for the woman to conclude her business in the ruined tower. The sounds of footfalls approaching causes the man to reach for one of the small hand axes at his back, and for the second time that evening finds himself staring down the shaft of the small axe at Dun.

"I wish you'd holler before sneaking around like a thief. I do not wish to put an axe through your head for it, as these blades are not meant for you." He spins the axe once before hooking it back behind him, and though his deep green eyes show no malice, there is an undertone of purposed violence shot through his voice, especially on the last portion.

[Dirigible]

Lyr

The night settles like a cloak around Lyr as he stands, uneasily left holding the donkey. Never the most gregarious of men, the fact that the only person with him is engaged in a passable impersonation of statue only stills Lyr's tongue further.

When the Dorn moves, Lyr turns, tense and apprehensive. Hearing the barbarian's terse admonition, the Erenlander sniffs. "Do you not think that we have enough adversaries without threatening our friends, Rhotha'ah?"

[Kahluah]

Rhotha'ah

The barbarian looks at the smaller of the two Erenlanders, his head tilted slightly. "Not a threat, Lyr. As stated, I don't want to be putting an axe through his head by mistake because he arrived without warning nd I thought it to be a minister of the Shadow or some such."

[Berova]

Dun

"And if I'd holler, my friend here'd probably have his head taken off." Dun says with a slight grimace, then welcoming an opportunity to change the subject, Dun quickly asks, "Where is Aleina? I'm surprise she had the both of you hang on to her ... uh ... donkey."

[Dirigible]

Lyr

Turning to look at the other man, Lyr looks releived. "Welcome back, Dun. Did your concerns reslove well? Aleina," he jerks his thumb over his shoulder. "has gone ahead, seeking out the refugee halfling."

[Berova]

Dun

"Thanks Lyr. I wish it were so, but alas, I cannot say I have, at least not yet..."

Dun looks ahead in the direction of Lyr's thumb is pointing to and, hoping to release any tension that may have built up here, responds with a lowered voice, "A humanitarian too, huh? I didn't think she had it in her, what will she do next?" Dun offers a quick wink and slight smile.

In a more serious tone, however, Dun asks, "You folks sure it's really safe in there? It's awful dark there. I wouldn't want anything to happen to her, em ... I mean, you never know what's lurkin' and hidin' around, let alone sneakin' about ... ya know??"

[Dirigible]

Lyr

The impotent channeler responds to Dun's japery with a sombre expression and quiet voice. "We have no need to fear on that account. Nothing Aleina has done so far has lead me to beleive she has any intention to deal ill with us. I feel... I know we can trust her."

He looks slightly worried when Dun comes to the second part of his speech. "That is true. While the Hound and his strongarms may have gone in search of the Healer, there may still be orcs to account for." Lyr frowns slightly. "Still, beyond doubt she is able to take care of herself, and we will not be here long." He shoots a brief glance at the Dorn.

[Berova]

Dun

Dun also steals a glance out of the corner of his eye before replying to Lyr matter-of-factly, "I hope you're right on both counts." He then gives a luxurious but silent yawn.

[Black Plauge]

Heulwen

"By the smell of things, this Dun has already arrived," Heulwen replies, after taking a sniff of the air. "Certianly somebody just joined the other two over there."

"As for suffering, I feel no pity for you and yours. My people, and indeed me myself, know far more of suffering than you can ever hope, or would even want, to know. You have no need to fear for me. I have been running from orcs for several months now and know how to evade them. Kingscross, too, does not need your fear. They know of the approaching orcs and are prepared for them as best as possible, or Stafford is not the man I take him to be."

Pausing, Heulwen considers the third thing that Aleina said she feared for, the Healer. Here, she was not so sure that Aleina's fear was not misplaced. Even with his patient strapped to his horse's back he wasn't going to be making very good time. Indeed, with the way that strange man tracked what he should not have been able to, it would be little suprise to Heulwen if they caught up with the Healer soon. And, while the dwarf certianly looked like he knew what he was about with that axe, in his current condition, Heulwen doubted that he was capable of taking on four of the Shadow's men.

Realizing that Aleina was waiting for her to continue, Heulwen finds her voice again, "The Healer, on the other hand, I'm not so sure about. He had the patient I told you about earlier with him, and he was still in need of care. Things will not go well for the pair of them should those four men of the Shadow catch them."

[Gralhruk]

Aleina

By the smell of things?

Her nostrils flare slightly, but Aleina is unable to detect anything; not that she expected to, given that she'd been in close proximity to Dun for a while and had never noticed any smell. Her eyelids lower slightly as the halfling continues, making distinctions about torment that Aleina finds unnecessary.

"Suffering," she says somewhat evenly, "is suffering. Some is worse than others, but I do what I can."

She listens to Heulwen's assessment of the healer's predicament. In Kingscross, with the townspeople at stake and four unknown strangers against an even number of would be rescuers - it seemed a very risky proposition to intervene.

"No, it will not go well for them if they are caught. I took no action against their pursuers in town, uncertain as I was about the outcome of a battle and the possible repurcussions for Kingscross. Would you help the healer and his charge, given the chance?"

[Black Plauge]

Heulwen

"By myself? No," Heulwen replies, "Against four of the Shadow's men I could not hope to prevail. Even with the help of you and your friends I am unsure of what to do. If I knew I could escape notice I would in a heartbeat. But I cannot garuntee such a thing and thus cannot be sure of myself. Still, I know that I am better off away from here when the orcs arrive. It seems to me that we might as well follow after the healer in case there is something that we can do, even if I do not know what at this time."

"Of course, if you and your companions do not wish to trail the Shadow's men, a risky proposition no doubt, then there is little I can do."

[Gralhruk]

Aleina

"You will join us then? I have not approached the others about helping the healer, nor am I certain that we are strong enough together in any case. Whatever the odds, they will be better out here - with your help, and possibly the healer and his charge - then they were in Kingscross. And we do not risk bringing more danger down upon the town."

She glances back toward where the others wait, though she cannot see them through the distance and dark. Her arms are once more within her sleeves and she considers the night sky for a moment.

"I do not know about the others, but I am not a tracker, nor will my eyes be much good until the morning."

Shaking her head once, she focuses again on Heulwen.

"Will you meet the others? Then we can decide what we will do."

[Black Plauge]

Heulwen

"If our paths coincide then I see little reason not to join you. Thus far you have proven trustworthy, and I could certianly use another freind."

Whistling to Cytaill, Heulwen gestures to where his eyes now clearly glow in the moonlight when he raises his head to look at her. They disappear quickly though, as he settles back down to his former position.

"Cytaill is a good friend and loyal as all his kind are, but even so I crave some company that I can talk to more than once a day."

Shaking her head, Heulwen pushes aside her self pity and continues, "But yes, I will meet your companions if you think it safe. However, you might want to warn them of what to expect first. Not all humans would welcome the first sight of me. Some in the town even insisted that I was a *goblin*."

Her voice low and harsh at the end, Heulwen practically spits the last word.

[Gralhruk]

Aleina

The brief glow of luminescent eyes prickles the hair on the back of her neck and reminds her that Heulwen has a companion. A wogren, she guessed, given the stories she had heard about the bond between the wolf-like creatures and halflings, and Heulwen's comment about speaking to the beast. It's bulk is vague in the dark, almost indistinguishable from the surrounding landscape once the eyes are turned away from the moonlight.

"I believe you will be safe enough. Stay by me."

The channeler leads the way back to the others, moving slowly without light. Lyr and Rhotha'ah stand within the small circle of light shed by their lone torch; Dun is there, as the halfling had predicted.

"This is Heulwen, whom you may have noticed this afternoon in Kingscross. She has agreed to travel with us for a time; a wogren -Cytail- also travels with her."

[Black Plauge]

Heulwen

Noding in acknoledgement to Aleina's instruction, Heulwen follows at a close distance, signaling to Cytaill with a hand gesture to keep out of sight, before it occurs to her the it was doubtful that he understood the gesture.

I really aught to spend some time working out some signals with him.

Sighing when Aleina reveals Cytaill's presence, and mispronounces his name, Heulwen quickly recover's herself and makes an open study of the three men, careful to keep her hand clearly on her sword hilt in case they should try anything.

[Dirigible]

Lyr

Lyr is unable to conceal the relief on his face as Aleina steps into the ring of light, but hurridly tries to school his features back into order when their visitor appears.

He nods a silent greeting, bend his head low. A wogren? Interesting.

[Berova]

Dun

Dun views Aleina's return with a mix of curiosity and consternation. Thinking Aleina's acquaintance with a halfling a bit odd, and a halfling with a wogren at that. That the halfling will be traveling with them but only for a bit only adds to his uncertainty. What would the halfling want with Aleina or them for that matter? Dun remains silent as well though he acknowledges Aleina and Heulwen with a simple nod.

[Kahluah]

Rhotha'ah

The Dorn looks at the halfling and the wogren after having been announced by Aleina. He appraises the both of them, noting the little one's suspicions of he and the two other men in the area. He keeps his arms slightly away from his body so as not to appear threatening, even though he knows that a 6'5" human will almost always be threatening to the smaller folk of the lands.

He looks to Aleina and cocks his head to the side, his baritone voice rumbling within his chest. "I presume you have done all you came here to do?"

[Gralhruk]

Aleina

The channeler cocks her head slightly at Rhotha'ah as the barbarian asks his question. It seemed somewhat odd that none of her companions had uttered a single word to the halfling, but perhaps the night's previous chance encounter had soured them on strangers. Straightening, she regards them in flickering torchlight.

"Indeed I have. So, the question remains: what now? We have fled Kingscross, with hope that the authorities will deal with this raid as they have dealt with other such raids in the past."

She pauses briefly, carefully choosing her next words.

"I have only known each of you a scant few hours, but in that time I have come to believe that we share in two things: a hatred of the shadow and a desire to make a difference. I did not lie when I said I knew the healer's dwelling: I had been there only an hour before, to warn him of the danger facing the town, to goad him into fleeing before it was too late. Even I did not realize that there were other agents of shadow that were tracking him in particular.

"I led the shadow-friends there in hopes that the healer was already gone. While we were in town, all of Kingscross would be responsible for any action we took. Even then, it would have been the four of us against four of them - and one, at least, powerful enough that this healer feared him. Yet I am afraid they will be his death, and I would do what I can to help him. With our newfound friends, we outnumber them.

"My heart tells me to aid him if we can, but it is not my decision alone to make, nor do I know what business of your own you might wish to pursue. What course, each of you, would you follow?"

[Berova]

Dun

Dun listens to Aleina's words intently and carefully considers them before responding.

In her words, or perhaps it was the manner of her voice, he begins to realize this may be a moment of truth, a defining moment if you will, when cards are a laid down on the table.

And so, Dun responds, "Lady Aleina, there is not enough good in the world. What little there is, is all the more precious, so we'd best preserve it whenever there is even half a chance lest there be none at all. As for myself, I've been seeking the whereabouts of my father, Dura Aben, who has been missing now for more than a fortnight. I've been informed he came through KingsCross and may have headed south."

"So, if this is what you desire, you shall not be alone in this endeavor. I would do what little I can to aid the Healer, though I am concerned we will be too late given the lead those in league with the Shadow already possess. We best make haste, if there is any hope at all of catching up to them before all is lost."

[Kahluah]

Rhotha'ah

The barbarian looks at Dun, a sad, empathic grimace on his face. "It would seem that Dun and I share more than two things in common." Letting out a long breath which mists in front of his face in a long, thin stream, he slumps back against a ruined wall as if letting it support the weight that his shoulder bear, eyeing each of his new companions.

"I, too, am in search of someone I care for dearly." He reaches for the amulet around his neck and unties it, passing it across to Aleina for her to pass around. "My wife was taken less than a week ago after my settlement was attacked by masked bandits. Shadow or not, they came into my lands, slaughtered my family and my people, and stole my wife and a few other women from the village. I swore an oath to my family and my people that I would avenge their deaths and bring our women back safely."

Closing his eyes to let a solitary tear streak his face. "I will travel with you all and aid your ventures, and all I ask in return is that you aid me in mine." He opens his eyes and looks at the four in front of him in wait of an answer, no longer with the look of a confident and emotionless warrior, but that of a man who has laid bare his soul to the world and is almost expecting it to be kicked.

[Dirigible]

Lyr

Looking uncomfortable, Lyr avoids staring at the barely-weeping Dorn.

"Unlike you," he explains quietly, indicating Dun and Rhotha'ah, "I do not chanse someone... something. I flee from something. This means I do not have a destination in mind, but I can easily alloy my purpose to yours. So be it." He looks around the little group. "I suppose, then, we follow the Healer and try to save him from his pursuers, then seek out the bastards who assaulted Rhotha'ah's tribe, then try to find Dun's father..." he gives his friend an apologetic smile.

He then turns his dark eyes to the channeler. "And what of you, Aleina? You have not told us what your goals are, what drives you."

[Black Plauge]

Heulwen

Tired of the humans talking over her, Heulwen forces her way back into the conversation by answering for Aleina, "She helps because would prevent as much suffering as possible."

Staring at the three men, Heulwen makes sure all eyes are on her before continuing, "All of us share a connection, it would seem. In some way, shape, or form our lives have been directed against our will by the Shadow. But where most others would hang there head and go where the Shadow directs, we have elected to hold our ground and fight the rule of the Dark God."

"Some of us are more direct about it," Heulwen says, looking at Rhotha'ah, "others, more fruitive," she continues, turning to Lyr, "but each of us stands against the Shadow in our own way."

Pausing for a moment, Heulwen deliberatly takes her hand off the hilt of her sword and folds her arms across her chest, "Both the healer and his pursuers are on foot, but the healer has a patient to mind as he journeys while his pursuers travel much lighter. Both left here going north, and the leader of the Shadow's men seemed to think the direction signifigant. Indeed, he thought he knew where the healer was headed. However, the healer told me that I could find him to the west should I have need of him. I can only hope that the Shadow's men, in their haste to catch the healer, will miss the turning in his trail and head straight on towards wherever they think the healer is going."

Giving the others a moment to process the information she just revealed, Heulwen looks at each of them carefully before continuing, "I can track the healer and his pursuers. Indeed, I have already located their tracks where they passed me by. If you truly are ready to follow after and help the healer, we should get under way."

[Gralhruk]

Aleina

The channeler listens intently to the words of each man, her eyes never leaving theirs as they tell their stories, making them think for those few moments that the whole of her interest is only for them. She ignores Lyr's question, looking fixedly at the dark chunk of porcelain that Rhotha'ah had given her, handling it gingerly as though afraid it might cut her. When Heulwen has finished speaking, she looks up, passing the mask fragment to the halfling as she does so.

"Then the matter is settled. We will do our best to reach the healer and aid him however we may."

Her eyes turn inward for a moment, reflecting on the circumstances that had brought them here, curious about the weavings of fate. Without a tracker, they would have little chance of finding the healer. Was it luck that Heulwen had been at this spot at this time, and willing to help them?

"Heulwen is right: I would ease suffering where I can. I am a healer as well, so I feel a certain kinship with this hunted man. I will do what I can to aid each of you, to help you on your own journeys, and to honor the friendship you have shown me."

[Dirigible]

Lyr

Furtive? Lyr's eyebrows climb his forehead as he looks at Heulwen.

"I think it is safe to assume that his pursuers will realise the healer has deflected his path. Or best hope is that they tarry, and we can take them unawares."

Lyr bends down and begin to unlace a complex leather strap from his boot. When he straightens, he is carefully massaging flexibility back into a sling, and casting about for a suitable projectile.

"I am ready," he finishes simply.

[Kahluah]

For the first time since his life had irrevokably changed, Rhotha'ah smiles, hope revived within his large chest. Pushing himself off of the wall he had leaned on, he stands taller, a new strength of purposed gleaming in his countenance as he shares his burden amongst his new companions at the same time as they sheir theirs with him.

He looks to the halfling, nodding to her. "If it is you who knows the way to this healer, then lets us follow as you lead us the way." He grins once more, before he looks to the wilds around him and prepares himself for the chase.

[Black Plauge]

Beckoning to the others to follow, Heulwen leads them back to where Cytaill and her stuff remain hidden. Within a few moments, Cytaill has been introduced to the humans and Heulwen's stuff loaded on to Bombur, she having explained that since she could not ride Cytaill and follow the tracks at the same time, she would prefer that Cytaill remain free of the burden the gear would place on him.

With her bow in hand, Heulwen pauses for a moment to reaquire the tracks she had found earlier, and to get their scent so that she could follow them even without seeing them. Then she heads out, following the tracks as quickly as the night will allow.