((Heh, actually, that's a real plant. The Native Americans used it for purging. You can't make this stuff up, man, and if Orin's got to know his plants, so do I ))

~Garbage Dump, Alabar, Branchwood~

Geoffrey:

This was what he was afraid of. The guard had, of course, done his proper duty and jumped quickly to point his polearm to the man's throat, offering him surrender or death. Geoffrey hoped the man would give up. If only for the information Geoffrey might glean from him, he hoped the man would give up.

Then sounds of retching had come from the shack, and, as planned, the inhabitants burst out of it to the fresh air. One of them brandished a bastard sword. It was pretty. Geoffrey knew immediately the man must be vain. Or at least proud. No real man of arms wore such frippery. Then the fop spoke, "It would seem that you cannot fulfill your duties at this time; surrender or we will be forced to take dramatic measures..."

Geoffrey started to laugh. Definitely proud. "I believe you have it the opposite way round. Your two fellows are probably in no condition to fight, as every bend of their core no doubt aches. But, peace. Put that piece of jewelry away, unless you really insist on fighting. More guards are probably on their way already, since two now are missing from their posts. Believe me," he said, not with little chagrin, "they notice, and they come looking to punish. Now tell me," Before you're all taken to some dungeon I can't get into..., "how came you to be in this position?"

Orin:

The man on the ground had nodded to Orin with the mention of him being "one-fourths". Orin gave the man a cursory glance, but didn't deign to give him a reaction or words. He had been teased so when he was a child as well, and it still pained him some to be teased again, even when his talents had gained him so much and got him so far. But the echo of words came back to him that gave him strength: Frail you may be, but you are still most useful.

And I am, Orin thought, gripping the balls of pukeweed in his hands. Just look what I've reduced even these powerful magic users into. He couldn't say what he thought about the actual deed, though.

He started clinking through his bottles, finding the right one and holding it in exchange for one ball of the weed. Even he could be prepared to defend himself, if not heal any wounds that his staunch guards might sustain. In that regard, the Academy students were at a disadvantage.

He didn't know what the green-eyed soldier wanted from the students, but if he could stall them long enough, he was sure more guards would come to arrest them. If nothing else, the green-eyed soldier was calm and cool and collected where the students seemed frantic, jumpy, and panicked, and Orin felt safer with the soldier by his side.

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