Corrin - Garbage Dump, Alabar, Branchwood

Holding her stomach, Corrin followed Aerandir out of the building, looking up just in time to see...the guard from before, coming towards her. As he entered the buildng he stopped, overcome by the pukeweed. Her own insides churned in sympathy and she felt rather weak as she escaped into the open air.

"Sorry about that, I really did kinda like you. And sorry for this, too." Quickly she kicked the door closed behind him, then grabbed a peice of discarded lumber from a pile of junk and wedged it as hard as she could between the crack in the doorframe. That would perhaps hold him for a while if he managed to stop vomitting long enough.

Then she turned towards where the others were, drawing a second dagger. She saw the other, smaller man pulling something out of his pack and immediately rushed towards him, pointing one dagger at his chest and holding the other at the ready. She was taller than he was, and she attempted to force him against one wall of the alley, away from the other guards. She tried to ignore the waves of nausea that still flowed through her body.

It seemed that the prince of Branchwood didn't want to listen to reason, so she didn't think there was much point in being diplomatic. However, she didn't really want to have to hurt this scrawny fellow, so she hoped he would cooperate.

"Put that down," she said, gesturing towards the herbs and bottle he held in his hands. "Carefully."