Oarden bid the sailors farewell, and began on his way, clutching the necklace with a great sense of contentment. Oarden resided in an inn, not too far from the main port town. He liked it because it was safe, roomy and most importantly cheap. He followed to old path over the crest of the hill, and was met with a most terrible sight...

Flames. The inn was burning, great big clouds of smoke rose out from each window, doorway and chimney. The building burnt great reds, oranges and yellows, and pointy shapes danced around in the chaos. Oarden sprinted forward, almost tripping over the bits of stone that littered the pathway. As he approached, he noticed a group of people standing outside. At first he had assumed that they were residents of the building, but their long swords and shiny sets of armour said otherwise. He watched as they lit more and more flaming torches into the windows...

He got closer, close enough to make out one of them. This particular man had great red cheeks, and a large brown beard. He sat upon his black horse, and turned to face him as Oarden drew nearer. “What on earth is the meaning of this?” Oarden shouted over the roar of the flames, before noticing another solider carrying out a bag of golden items, much like the ones that had lined his room, before it was turned into a bonfire. “Those are mine! What right do you have-“he screamed, before the man on horseback stopped him. He pulled out a letter from one the bags that lined his saddle.

“We claim these treasures in the name of lord Fusos, to be apprehended for reuse in the ranks of his army. Any attempt to prevent this activity will be seen as an act against Fusos himself, and will be treated as such.” The man spoke clearly and boldly before turning back to Oarden. “I’m afraid there is nothing I can do. The best I can offer is that you journey to Silveredge, and appeal to reclaim these items.” Oarden glared at him with anger and frustration.

“Fusos thinks he can do this? People won’t stand for it! They will rebel!”

The man stared on strangely for a moment. “People are already rebelling.” He stated “We are on the break of war. If I were you I would hurry up and pick a side...” the man took one more look around before signalling for his men to leave. Oarden cried out, “Wait! Could you at least give me transport to Silveredge?” the man thought about this for a moment. Oarden reached into his pocket, and pulled out the necklace he had purchased earlier that day... the man on the horse nodded, and Oarden clambered on the back of his horse.

A face appeared in the back window, a man's face. At first she thought it was one of the army, but the body set too high and the proportions all wrong. He was too large to be anything other than a centaur, and he pointed right at her.

"Look you, Your Highness, and Rhovanor Of Rayacre, help the wounded into the trapdoor, I'll take care of these traitors."

He galloped away as fast as he appeared. She turned to the heir apparent, who was already formulating a plan. His plan was risky, but it would have to do, it was all they had. While Ridlen and his elven companion assisted the others to a bed, she slid her desk to the side revealing the trapdoor.

The screams and cries were coming closer. Sounds of chaos echoed in the streets as orcs and men clashed iron with the foolish few who stood against them. A mixture of orcish and common tongue now become distinguishable through the chaos. They were just outside.

She aided the two into the trapdoor and without a word shut it and slid the desk over just enough to conceal it. Glass shattering filled the air, it was from next door. It was now her turn. Thinking quickly she grabbed her sword and then the half empty ink bottle on her desk.

She quickly poured the ink on the wooden floor in a viscous puddle, the dim light from the fire gave her just the effect she wanted. The front door rattled, no time. She tossed the bottle aside and threw herself to the floor halfway onto the pool of ink. The sword slipped from her hand as she lay looking, or so she hoped, as if she had already been slain.

The door burst open sending splinters of wood from the now broken hinges, several large orcs squeezed inside, their heavy axes drawn and ready to strike someone down.

On the road outside of Silveredge

Jamlamin continued to walk down the road hood drawn up over his face so no one could see it, after all that walking he had come to a crossroad and the only two choices were to the capital where Fusos sat or a town called Damascus so he picked the town, which as he pressed on he realized both were a huge mistake. Refugees were heading down the road speaking of the town being attacked, some of those refugees said Rebels did it, which didn't make sense the other explanation did make sense. which was Fusos' men attacked it.

Nevertheless Jamlamin kept moving, keeping to the side of the road so he didn't get lost in a stream of refugees. By the time the town came into sight Jamlamin's feet hurt he had walked for hours, what he saw made him hesitate on entering the town, some of the buildings had been set ablaze and some orcs laid slain by rebels no doubt, but there were also slain villagers. Proceeding further into the town he saw a centaur, not wanting to be caught by him in case he was an enemy, Jamlamin brought the shadows around himself making himself practically invisible to the naked eye, content with his gift he sat and watched the Centaur to see his next move.

It was a strange sight, Alura admitted. It was not everyday that you say three centaurs traveling along busy roadways towards major cities. It was an even stranger sight to see an Elven maiden riding upon the backs of one of them. Centaurs normally didn't allow riders, they believed it to be demoralizing and an insult. However, such was not the case this time. Alura smiled sweetly to the travelers, her eyes warm and her laugh tinkling as children watched with wide eyes. She sat comfortably upon her companion's back, her legs hanging from his right side, her hands, pressed into his backbone to keep her steady. "This is far enough, friends. You've taken me even farther then I could have hoped for." Alura called. Her companions all slowed to a trot, one of them moving closer to the maiden to extend his hand and help her down. Graciously taking the offer, Alura slid from the centaur's back. Strolling to the front to face her ride, Alura smiled and spoke. "Thank you, friends for your help. It was greatly appreciated."

"Think nothing of it, milady. We can't thank you enough for your healings. Because of you my village lived through a truly terrible sickness." The largest centaur, Latreth, spoke. His stern face softened for a moment as he returned the warm smile of the maiden. Alura motioned for Latreth to lean towards her and placed a small kiss upon his cheek in response. "Safe travels." She wished to the centaurs as they turned and headed back towards their hometown.

Pulling the hood of her cloak upon her head, Alura turned and traveled towards the city Damascus. She had heard of the misery that had been happening in the area and thought that her skills might be useful in the town. Alura knew she needed to be careful because of the adornment of jewels she wore. Gold hung from her body, she was decorated highly. It was not something she did out of vanity, they had all been gifts to her from the people she had aided and healed. They weren't trophies but beautiful momentous of her travels. They were precious to her, they represented the lives that she had saved.

Alura brushed a long strand of ebony hair from here eyes as she walked through the throng of people that were heading away from the city. They walked about her in a wide berth, eying her like she was some mysterious thing. The Elven maiden supposed she could something mysterious, it was not everyday that you saw an Elven maiden in the cities. Though she did not have her father's ears or distinct facial features, she did have the body that moved lightly, almost like it was moving on air. With her eyes set, Alura moved swiftly towards Damascus, tasting the sour of death on the air.

It was night, by the time Nat reached a crossroad. At least five other roads bumped into this single one, which was supposed to be the main road. The half elf grinned at the signpost, which showed the town of Damascus in the direction he was heading, or more likely, the wagon tracks were leading. Behind him the signpost showed Sap town. Other roads took you to a couple of villages that Nat heard of, however, couldn't remember visiting. Gazing forward he understood that, even though it's dark, he could see smoke rising.

"Damascus is being looted too. Interesting" he thought and continued onward. Not a hundred steps away he came across a barricade built from fallen trees and a couple of broken wagons. For a second, Nat was afraid that all his following was in vain and the wagon he was following was eventually caught and destroyed. That, luckily, turned out not to be the case as the tracks continued after the barricade. As soon as he got close to it, Nat heard running and soon found himself surrounded by three soldiers behind his back. A person's head emerged from behind the barricade.

"Hello, dear traveler. You are talking to the officer of the 103rd squad of Fusos' infantry. This barricade stops any movement into Damascus until the crisis in the city is solved. State your business in this road and we will consider letting you pass." the man briefly introduced himself and then gave a questioning look to Nat.
Nat looked behind himself and saw three archers ready to draw. "These are the people that started following me after Sap", Nat thought. As if they heard him, one of the archers shouted "We followed you and we want to know, why's a heavily armed traveler striding all night without rest."
"Thank you, soldier." the officer nodded in approval and turned his gaze on to Nat again. The half-elf thought on what to do for a moment and figured it was the best to tell the truth. Spiced with a little bit of lie.
"I'm travelling, because I can't find a safe place to take shelter. My plan was Sap, but it was destroyed, I quickly stumbled upon these tracks, figured they would take me to the nearest safe settlement. Thus, I'm following them.
"What of your weaponry? No common traveler can afford it."
"I'll be honest, I stole them. I'm a scavenger you see. Traveling to sell them."
The officer's face grinned with a smile before asking "Unless.. You pay me the road toll. Tell me, why should I let an outlaw into a city. Why not scavenge these same stolen items from your dead body for myself? "
Nat answered the man's smile with his. "Because you are no officer of Fusos. A mere highwayman. No officer is ever accompanied by three clumsy archers."
The man's smile disappeared and him seemed a little hesitant for a moment. Nat continued talking "Just let me through and there is a chance that all five of us will see the Sun tomorrow."

He heard the tensing of bowstrings and saw that the supposed officer was looking at the archers. Henry understood that he wasn't up for a negotiation, thus the half-elf quickly stooped and grabbed a piece of wooden wheel and threw it at archers. One of them was forced to dodge and the other two distracted. Nat took the opportunity, to run into the forest, around the barricade. He heard a thump, as an arrow hit a tree left to him and a few of them. He quickly emerged in front of the barricade, however, on the other side. The "officer" seemed unarmed and in simple vest and somewhat scared. Nat took out his own bow and told him "If you promise to order them to not to follow me and get out of here right now, I'll consider not dipping a few arrows in you."
The highwayman looked at Nat for a couple of seconds and slowly nodded. As the archers emerged from the forest, after going around barricade, Nat has already left. He was tired as hell after two days of no sleep, thus he wanted to reach Damascus as soon as possible and get some sleep, rather than keep his original promise that took him there.

Alura wasn't too far from Damascus when she came upon the terror. She realized that the many travelers she had come across had actually been survivors. Poor souls leaving their homes and lives behind to find a safe place to live. She looked into the sad tired faces of those who passed her, their eyes downcast and hollow. Her heart went out to the people but for some reason something kept pushing her forward. Alura hadn't quite realized how far out from the town she had been when the centaurs had dropped her off, but she didn't mind the stroll. The string of survivors had dwindled down to nothing now, but she could hear the horrors of the city ahead.

Alura was brought from her thoughts suddenly when she heard the sad calls of a child. Slowing her pace and looking about her, Alura quickly located the source of the cries, they were off the traveled road, somewhere off in the immediate woods. Movingly quickly, Alura happened upon the small boy curled up on his side, crying softly into the ground. Immediately, Alura saw the bow protruding from his thigh. The elven maiden kneeled beside the boy, gently placing her hand upon his shoulder. The boy cried out, begging for her not to hurt him. After a few moments of gentle reassuring, Alura managed to calm the boy enough to let him know that she was here to help.

"Are you an angel?" He whimpered as Alura swept him up into her arms, being mindful of his wound. "No, little one. I am Fae." She assured him with a smile as she quickly carried him towards town. She needed to get him somewhere with the proper equipment to remove the error and bind the arrow. If she were to remove the arrow now, his soft flesh would bleed and from the looks of him, he couldn't afford to lose much more.

It took no time to find the healer's abode, but she immediately saw that it had been ransacked. Obvious signs that orcs had been here from the tracks and damage to the layout about her. Quickly rushing through the splintered door, Alura sucked a deep breath in through her teeth as she saw the body face down on the floor laying in the pool of blood. The little boy whimpered quietly in Alura's arms. "Now, now. Look not, at her. Stay here and allow me to lay her to rest." Alura cooed as she laid the boy on his side, propping his wounded leg up carefully where nothing would bother the arrow. She turned back to the body.

"By the Gods, nobody should die like this." Alura whispered to herself as she kneeled before the dead woman on the floor. She placed a fingertip on the blood and found that it was oddly cold and very watery. Confused, the elven maiden touched the woman's arm, she was still warm. Quickly, Alura pressed her hand against the woman's back, right where her heart was. "This isn't even blood?" Alura questioned, quite confused as she pushed the woman's red hair back, trying to look at her face.

Several large creatures she could only determine as orcs crammed inside. Their large hulking bodies took up what little space her home afforded. She could hear one swing a heavy weapon into the cabinets sending countless glass bottles full of her work shattering to the floor. She felt a couple move close to where she lay. She could feel them towering over her but she didn't dare move or open her eyes. All she could do was hold her breath. Was her attempt at deception good enough?

Instead of hearing another heave and crash of a weapon the intruders spoke. They did not speak in the common tongue but orcish. Still, she had no understanding of it; she instead paid attention to the tones they used. She couldn't be entirely sure, but they seemed to be discussing something. Maybe they were questioning on what to do? That would be strange. Why discuss that here? Why not just ransack it like everywhere else and leave? She didn't know, and for the moment, didn't care. She just wanted them gone.

One of the beasts spoke up, and mentioned one word even she recognized, Fire. One spoke up and the lumbering bodies ran back outside their bold screams returning and disappearing in the chaos.

Robyn lay quiet and still for several more moments before she got ready to move, but another approaching person through the broken door. There was a small whimper and a woman's voice spoke up, "Now now, look not at her."

Robyn debated for a moment if this was a trap, but the streets have been relatively quiet, the major force having passed them. She felt the woman lean over her and touch her arm, and press against her back. She didn't know who she was, but from the sound of things there where injuries to be tended.
"This isn't even blood."

"It's not." She finally spoke as she shifted to stand help herself to her feet. Her blue eyes looked over the other woman; she had a benevolent aura about her. "Forgive my deception, but there is no time to explain now."

She didn't bother picking up the sword before moving to the desk and slowly pushed it aside. It made a rough skidding noise across the rough wooden floor. She knelt down and pulled open the trapdoor.

"We're safe for now," she said addressing not only His Majesty and his companion, but the recovering in the beds as well, "but we need to get out."

Taking the time to pick up her sword she retrieved the scabbard from the wall and tied it to her waist before turning her attention to the sound of a whimper. Her eyes softened as she saw the child on the floor. She forced a serene smile despite the grim circumstances, "You must be here to see me, yes?"

"By the Gods." Alura mused with a smile as the woman pushed herself to her feet and moved about the place. Alura watched with mild amusement at the scene before her as the healer pushed the desk back and pulled open a trap door. While the woman busied herself with the others Alura turned to look back to the little boy, his face drained and deathly white from the loss of blood. Alura moved to the boy's side, pushing his hair back from his damp sweat covered face. When the healer spoke to him, Alura turned her bright eyes to the woman.

"I found him in the woods, I didn't want to pull the arrow out without the proper bindings to stop the blood flow. Do you have any goldenrod to stop the bleeding once we remove the arrow? I'm afraid I've used up most of my herbs back in a centaur village some days ago and I haven't had time to replenish my stock. The only thing I have is opium leaves." Alura said, removing her cloak quickly and folding it up to create a makeshift pillow for the boy. She laid him back tenderly and reached into her pouch to pull out said opium leaves. Rubbing the leaves between her fingers, Alura smiled down at the little boy.

"Here, open your mouth. This will dull the pain." Alura reassured as the little boy opened his mouth. Rubbing the natural oils along the inside of his mouth quickly, the elven maiden tucked the leaf beneath his tongue and shut his mouth gently. "Keep that in place. It will make your feel dizzy, but it's okay. Don't be afraid." With another leaf, Alura crushed it up between her fingers once more and began to rub it on the little boys temples.

When Alura finished with that she turned to the arrow and looked at the tip that was protruding through his thigh. "We need to break the arrow head off, this will make it easier to remove the arrow. It will hurt but only for a moment." Alura said as she smiled at the little boy. Slowly he nodded his head and looked over to Robyn, his doe-brown eyes welling up with tears as Alura quickly broke off the arrow's tip, being mindful to not jar it as best as she could. She too turned her eyes to the healer.

Damascus

Jamlamin watched as a elf girl walked by his hiding place, "Helloooooooo, foxy lady." He said to himself, she was in a hurry to a certain building a boy held in her arms, so he followed her partly because he wanted to get to know her, and partly because he was curious about the boy. How to follow her was the tricky part but he settled it by turning himself into her shadow which made her shadow look way off, Jamlamin hoped no one would notice.

The elf girl walked into a looted building and found what Jamlamin thought was a body, but on closer inspection by the elf girl she was alive and revealed herself to be the town healer, Jamlamin thought she was good looking too. He busied himself with concentrating on maintaining his shadowy disguise, as well as watching for what was gonna happen next, he watched as the Red-headed girl revealed a trap door out of town, he couldn't help but grin at how clever this girl was, but he didn't account for his disguise as the girls shadow to grin as well revealing bright white teeth.

Nat swore loudly as he stumbled over a tree root and barely kept on his feet. He was starting to feel exhausted, even the water didn't help much. The good thing was, that he finally reached Damascus. The half-elf lost the wagon tracks some time ago, when Damascus' stone-brick-paved road started. The city, or a town, depends on what a person has seen in his life, did not have much of a wall or a gate. He stumbled upon several people that seemed like refugees, however no Fusos men and Nat was happy about that.
Nobody even noticed him for more than a few seconds, as he entered Damascus through a wooden arc, that was once their gate.

People seemed to be coming from the northern side of town, the one that had most woods around. Most of the smoke was there too. Most of them were a little hesitant to leave, thus Nat understood that they were just afraid not to get in the way, but it was not an actual raiding or looting party in the town. Thus, Nat came upon a conclusion that what was here, were Fusos' bounty hunters. And if they are burning houses and raiding houses to catch that certain someone, that man must be important.

Nat stopped a man who did not seem too confused and frightened. "What is going on?" he asked the man "Who is raiding this town?"
"Bugger off" the man pushed Nat aside and went on. The half-elf glanced at him, before continuing forward. He stopped upon seeing a woman and asked "Did a wagon come this way, if so, where is it?" the question seemed to shock the woman as she immediately started backing away "I know naught of wagons, ser.. Lord, I swear, nothing to do with no wagons." Nat understood its pointless to ask townsfolk about it, because they were scared of the Fusos army. He even resembled a soldier, with all his weaponry, no surprise that nobody trusted him. The woman was still backing off slowly. "Where is the nearest post office. Do you have one?" The woman stopped and gave a questioning look before answering "By the market, on the northern side."

Nat found his way to the market and soon the post office. It was obviously looked at this time of hour and concerning the events around, but the door had a hole for people to leave their mails at any time of day. The half-elf had no way of writing the letter, so he needed to get in and he knocked loud. Since nobody opened after he knock rapped twice more, Nat broke the door open with his shoulder. A candle was burning, but the only man he saw in there was sleeping. Even breaking the door didn't seem to wake him up from that chair. Nat went to and shook him.
"I need a letter sent. Fast. Now if it's possible"
The man obviously did not understand what's going on as he mumbled something than looked Nat in the eyes with distrust "How did you get in here, who are, I'll call the guards.. Throw your mail through the door-hole, we will... " Nat slapped him. "I need the mail sent now".
"Pay enough and it will travel at least 50 leagues in a day". the man stood up from the chair and gave a document full of names and addresses, then feather and ink. "Give me the letter, write the recipient's address in here." he started mumbling.
"Give me some paper. I need to write it first" Nat said to him and got a glance together with some paper. Nat wrote the letter fast.
"If your friend is still alive, he will find you. Someone saved the refugees, there weren't too many bodies it is possible for him to be there. If he was among those saved he will find you. Hope for the best. Thank you for telling about my mother. I appreciated your help. There's some money in the pillow.
The sellsword that agreed to help you."

"That's it?" the man working in this post office lifted an eyebrow "You woke me up to send a letter that short?"
"It's important. Seal it and get it to the location in no later than tomorrow night." Nat said as he was counting the correct amount of coins. He gave a few too many and said "These ones are for the door."

He then left the post office and strided to the northern side of town.

Rilden and Rhovanor both took to the secret passage, but did not go any further than the entrance. If they heard her scream, or some sort of yell, they would bolt right up and help defend them. "How many times have we been locked in a cellar?" Rhovanor asked, a hint of a smile on his face as he looked over at his friend. Rilden shook his head with the same small smile. "This would be our eighth..." A lot of people would be thought weird if they were showing a bit of humor in this situation... But from what Rilden saw, the world of Vahldir could use a lot of happiness right now... Then it happened. Orc screams and shouts were now in the house, boots climbing through it, and it sounded like a loud crash could be heard from just above. Rilden went back up the wooden stairs to open the hatch... but it was blocked!

Both the elf and man tried as they might to get the hatch open, but it was no use. They now both stood in absolute silence... Waiting for any sign of life... Then the latch opened. they both climbed out to see the place in a mess... but everyone in it was alive. he saw the amount of dead orcs outside left by the Centaur. Although he was glad he seemed to be alright, it was foolish to keep fighting. More will come... and when they find out that the people of Damascus has killed a part of his army... there will be no survivors.

there could be a million things for him to say. He was sorry that they brought a whole army after them. That more wounded and dead will soon find their way here... But as Rilden watched the red haired woman heal the young child, he didn't say anything. "Miss Robyn." Rilden said, stepping forward. "You have heard of the stories then, yes? The ones when you were a small child. About how the gods gave gifts to those they thought worthy." He pointed to the child. "You have one of those gifts. I am not forcing you to join us, but the more gift bearers that come together, the weaker he gets.... I am not forcing, but asking if you will spare your gift and talents for the High Kingdom."

Her attention focused the scene before her. This woman was no stranger to the healing arts. She watched as she tended to the boy's fears and even treated his pain with a bit of opium. A smile came across her lips as she took this in. The boy relaxed a bit. Still, everyone knew that this would still be painful, there was no way around that.

“Unfortunately, I am fresh out of goldenrod, but we'll make due.”

The woman's words to the boy were serene and comforting. She had quite the bedside manner. She then turned her attention to the wound itself where as behind her the Heir Apparent and his companion rose from their hiding place. She paid them no mind, at least for the moment. Her attention remained on the child at hand, and this injury was nothing so easily managed.

The other woman got ready to break the arrow when the boys eyes met her own. She cooed and enveloped his hand with her own. “It'll be okay. Stay strong for me, okay?” With those words her counterpart broke the arrow. Now would be the risky part.

All eyes fell on her and the tension in the air was so thick as to be sliced with a blade. No one spoke as with one hand reached for the arrow, and the other pressed her thumb hard against his thigh several centimeters above the site. Slowly she pushed the arrow through. So concentrated was she in this she forgot to even breathe.

Several silent tense seconds ticked by as the arrow slowly slid from the boy and finally was freed.

Robyn finally took a sigh of relief but still maintained a hard pressure with her other hand. She couldn't relax yet. She glanced back up at the boy who still looked mortified. His eyes still welled with tears and his face grown pale. She couldn't be sure if it was from blood loss or the opium, both were equally likely at this point.

Dropping the bloodied arrow to the floor she placed her now free hand over the hole and took a deep breath.

She concentrated. The wound was extensive to the young child. There was no possible way she could manage an immediate recovery for the lad. The damage was too much and her energy too low. She was tired as it was, and this would only prove to send her into borderline exhaustion.

As she worked she felt her own face grow pale, and her vision darken. She released her grip from the thigh and removed her hand. The wound, while not healed fully, would no longer pose a threat to his life. She sat on her knees on the floor for several moments breathing heavily before she could summon the energy to stand. Before she did, she forced a small smile to the child, “You'll be back on your feet in no time. It just needs to keep wrapped for a bit and you'll be good as new.”

"Miss Robyn,” she heard turning her focus towards the two. She had honestly forgotten about their presence in the room at all.

She propped herself against the counter as the Heir Apparent spoke, too sluggish for the moment to stand completely.

"You have heard of the stories then, yes? The ones when you were a small child. About how the gods gave gifts to those they thought worthy. You have one of those gifts. I am not forcing you to join us, but the more gift bearers that come together, the weaker he gets.... I am not forcing, but asking if you will spare your gift and talents for the High Kingdom."

“I would be honoured to join your cause, Your Highness.” Sure he had asked her not to call him that, but her sense of propriety prevailed. She leaned against the counter for several more moments before finally taking on all her weight. This was shaping up to be a long night, and she had already grown weak from her art.

“I merely have one request,” she said motioning to the sick and injured in the room, “these people need a place to be tended to in my absence. They will all recover in a few days time, but until such time they require tending.”

As the healer, Miss Robyn, finished her work, Alura eyed her carefully. She saw what the woman had done and how it had taken a toll on her physically. She made quick work of binding the wounds and swept the boy up into her arms and laid him carefully on a cot. She covered him with her cloak, and pushed his hair back from his face once more. "Rest now, little one." Alura cooed as she smiled at him. She turned back to the party and saw all of their tired, weary faces.

"How about I make some tea. Excuse me, I see you have some herbs over here. I will make tea for those who wish to sleep and tea for those who wish to stay awake." Alura said as she strolled over to the containers, opening them up and looking through them all carefully. She listened to the others talk, her bright eyes ever so often falling back onto the group. Something, however, caught her eye. There was something in her shadow that caused it to look funny. She reached into one of the vats and pulled out a certain spice.She used this often to help children with terrible colds, it caused their sinuses to clear. It was a powder you swiped in their little noses or placed on their upper lip and it caused their eyes and nose to run and sometimes cause terrible sneezing fits. She took a dash of that and sprinkled it all across her shadow.

With a small smile she turned back to the work at hand and finished the process as she collected all the needed herbs for the teas. "Might we light a fire so I could get them started?" Alura asked as she turned back to the group, smiling warmly at all the strangers. Her eyes quickly ghosted over the other Elf in the room and the man the healer referred to as "Your Highness". She was quite curious as to what she had just exactly gotten herself into as she listened to the man talk about the gift of the Gods.

Rilden had been so focused on the healer and child, that he forgot the elf was there. He often lost himself in the current situation. He have a polite nod to the elven woman as she made her way past them, Rhovanor paying more attention to her. It had been a very long time since he had seen an elf, especially a rather pretty one, if he did say so himself, but now wasn't the time for Rhovanor to lose focus.

Robyn replied, and "his majesty still made Rhovanor smirk a bit. Rilden have a nod. "Yes, of course. I'm not familiar with the land around here, so is there anywhere safe you know that we can transport them?" He asked. The elf woman came back in to the room, both men turned to her. "Forgive us for not introducing ourselves sooner. These circumstances haven't been the best."

"I am Rilden, son of Thaimos, house of Aleden." Rilden said to the elf.

"I'm Rhovanor, of Rayacre. It is comforting to see our kind are still wandering the land" The brown haired elf said in his native tongue, knowing she would understand it.

Once the introductions were done, Rilden looked back at Robyn. "We can use the wagon outside to load the wounded. And hopefully our centaur friend can help us as an escort..." His thoughts trailer off as he thought he saw something behind the elf... Her shadow seemed.. No. It was nothing. They were just paranoid from this night.

Jamlamin watched the scene unfold before him, he watched as the red head healed the boy with deft hands. He watched as two men a man and a elf came out of the trapdoor.

None of that was particularly interesting until they mentioned the red heads name and she had a gift, Fuso would pay good money for her, but then when they adressed the man as "Your majesty." Jamlamin just about had a heart attack. Fuso would pay a kings ransom for him. Jamlamin readied a plan to take the king but then the elf girl sprinkled some sort of powder on him, a powder that made his eyes water, it made his nose run, and worse off made him lose focus on maintaining his disguise, he couldn't help himself as he sneezed and revealed himself to everyone in the room.

Alura felt an amusing smile form across her lips as the two gentleman spoke to her. What really got her was when the Elven man spoke in the Old Tongue to her. Sad as it was to say, there were very few people of their kind who actually knew the language. It was a dying part of their culture. "Merry meet, Rilden." Alura said first to the one they referred to as 'Your Majesty'. Next she turned to the Elven man and spoke in the Old Tongue. "Merry meet Rhovanor, of Rayacre. I am Alura, of Sablebrush. A very small Elven village. indeed. I'm a traveling Healer, I've traveled all over the land the past few years. I was just recently traveling from a centaur village about a day's ride from here."

What happened next almost caused her to let out a chuckle when her shadow sneezed and a man cloathed in darkness appeared before them all. She eyed him carefully as he stood there, looking shocked by what had just happened. Next a centaur came flying past, his weapon at the ready to strike down the man of darkness. Moving just as quickly, Alura had placed herself between the centaur and the man. Her delicate hand was resting on Chiron's hand that branded his weapon and the other held a long needle pointed at the unnamed man's throat, hovering merely a hair's breadth away from his skin. "Now, friends. We are in the middle of something fairly grave here. Many people have died already, I do believe enough blood shed has befallen this day. However, I do find it quite suspicious that you would feel the need to hide yourself from us, my Shadow. Now if you were to make any brash movements I would hate to prick you with this needle. You see, it's got a certain type of poison on it. One that would not kill you but it would leave you paralyzed for hours upon hours." Alura said, smiling from first the centaur to her Shadow-man.

After Jamlamin sneezed things happened quickly the centaur came in blade drawn and ready to kill him, Jamlamin reached for his blade only to find the elf girl between the two, [i] "Now, friends. We are in the middle of something fairly grave here. Many people have died already, I do believe enough blood shed has befallen this day. However, I do find it quite suspicious that you would feel the need to hide yourself from us, my Shadow. Now if you were to make any brash movements I would hate to prick you with this needle. You see, it's got a certain type of poison on it. One that would not kill you but it would leave you paralyzed for hours upon hours." [i] The Elf Girl said to him, well now she had his attention he put on his best face and his most charming voice and said to the elf girl.

"Well milady, i most certainly apologize for hiding in your shadow i was rather curious as to what was going on in this town, and you seemed to know the way, now allow me to introduce myself i am Jamlamin Milner."

He stepped back away from the needle enough to give a small bow in the direction of the king and the elven lady sighed and spoke to the king directly "Like the red haired girl i too am gifted, just in a different way and my talents could be yours for the measly sum of 200,000 thousand gold coins." After all he had been looking for work an what a perfect place to offer his services he gets rich, the king gets to use his talents everyone walks away happy. At least Jamlamin hoped everyone would be happy.

"The pleasure, is all mine, Chiron the Quick. And please, Rilden will do just fine." The man said, giving a small bow in respect to Centaur culture. Rilden then turned to Alura, giving yet another bow. Then she started to speak to Rhovanor in their tongue. Long ago Rilden learned the language.. or tried to, at least. He was good, but things they were saying seemed a bit too complex for his vocabulary. "I have heard of the place. My family would stop by the small town for supplies while hunting for the village before Rayacre was closed off." He said, but as soon as he finished, a man appeared out of the woman elf's shadow!

It wasn't surprising that Rilden's blade was out as soon as he heard the noise. The blade glowing dimly as he went in to defensive stance. He had the large centaur and elf in front of him, though. It was good to see that people would stand up for what they believed in, even in this day. Rilden knew that he didn't his whole life... Rilden let Alura speak, and then the dark cloaked man. And as he did, Rilden could have already known he had a gift. "Rothen..." Rilden said very quietly under his breath.

Rhovanor only watched, glaring at the man full of uncertainty and a bit of anger. He should have seen him come in. If he wasn't just a man for hire, he could have killed them all! The only hope Vahldir had! And Rhovanor's grip of his blades tightened the more he spoke.

Rilden stepped forward, past Chiron and Alura, his blade still at his side. "You think the Gods gave you those powers to make money?" Rilden asked, his eyes staring at him. "I will not pay for your services. If you want to join the side to bring Fusos' downfall, then we will take you. Follow us, we will know. And we might not be so lucky as to threaten to poison you..."