"...good grief." Away from and completely unaware of the invasion happening in Fayport, Shork held his head as he tossed and turned in bed. The throbbing had gotten a little better, but in the end he still landed skull-first on hard wood - while the half-orc liked to think of himself as resilient and tough, even to him it didn't feel all that good. Still groaning, the hunter got up from his bed - he stumbled a little as he did, his balance still impaired, but he'd be damned before sitting idly in his bed at home rather than doing something, anything. Getting himself dressed in the old, cobbled leather armour, slinging the bow and quiver around his torso and securing the belt with his knife around his waist, he opened the door and let the cold air head into his home before heading out himself.

The outside was rather cool, but not enough so to bother him - the half-orc was there often enough after all, and had dealt with conditions harsher than that. Considerably harsher. Walking down the street, Shork looked around to see if anything else had been battered or destroyed in the skirmish yesterday night - the destroyed inn served as a grim reminder of the events that occurred, though thankfully most homes and shops looked just as peaceful as a day ago. Shork sighed - at least that much was granted to his village. He had failed in his task, after all - he told Elric that he would go out and see if there were more gnolls, and he did; he just didn't find any and ultimately gave up to recover from his head wound. But he had failed both to protect his city and failed that he had given up too quickly in scouting for more threats too - at least, to his knowledge, nobody died because of it. Shork let out a sigh and kept on trudging through the cold day, a cheerless look on his face until he saw a half-elf and, from the looks of it, a half-orc in grey robes. This was interesting - he'd seen the half-elf before, but never the half-orc, and in fact seeing half-orcs in this part of the world was rare, even moreso in Estermere, and so Shork was drawn to the sight, quickly making his way over to the two of them, the former gloomy expression having turned into a small smile. "Ah... g'day. Sorry for interrupting so rudely, but it's not common to find a half-elf and another half-orc here in Estermere. Had to come over and introduce myself. I'm Shork."

Rovtar turned his attention away from Trafalgar and onto Shork. His lips curled into a grin, "No need, no need, we are kindred spirits." He glanced down at his papers, which he had tucked away under his right arm. "Well Shork, I am Rovtar." He glanced back towards his papers, as he held them up to his eyes, as he peered at them. He began flipping through, analyzing them with a great fervor. After that he shuffled them back under his right hand. "So Shork, what can I do for you today?"

Ark'kruy'ek chose to ignore the human who had almost made an insult. He looked intent as the dwarf spoke and listened to his words carefully. Ark'kruy'ek showed an expression of confusion when the dwarf said the fur was green. The other three Gnolls let out what sounded like a short chuckle indicating they had a sort of understanding of common. Ark'kruy'ek gave what looked like a smirk. "You make funny? Green is not normal fur. Most blacks, browns, and reds." Ark'kruy'ek lifted his sword from the ground. "Green no make sense. You welcome to look at pack. Green is no natural color for fur. It may be outcast of other pack if it green."

"I can tell." The dwarf soberly stated glaring at the Gnoll as he pointed to his good eye, "I can still see you dog." He crossed his arms as he huffed, "So you have no Gnolls of that fur color?" He glanced at the others and spoke again, "Take us there."

Anya's eyes widened as she stared up at Remington. How could she ever have doubted such a good friend? The fact that a strange man bit her and made her a vampire was no reason to doubt all the strangers probably.

"It's OK," squeaked Anya, "I've been playing around the study, so I bet I could find whatever it is he needs! You just tell me what it is, and I'll help!"

Mister Elric really was nice, it seemed, and he let she and her father stay there. Anya was going to help however she could. As a matter of fact, she got an idea. A helpful idea! Anya got a wonderful, helpful idea!

"Wait, I'll search the study for the thing, and you can go out and get mister Elric a 'get well' present," said Anya, smiling. This was probably one of the best ideas she'd ever had. It was the perfect plan.

Meanwhile downstairs the burly man with the axe let out a sigh of boredom, as he kept his hand clamped over Elric's mouth.
I wonder if I should just knock him ou- Oh screw it. Boss said we get extra, if he is alive. But first, like Momma always said, 'Before you knock 'em out, take care of any prying eyes.. Glancing behind him, luckily there was little traffic heading down the square, from where Elric's house was. He grinned, before with his free gauntlet let out a quick crack as he smacked Elric with enough force to knock him unconscious. He then heaved Elric over his right shoulder.

---

There is no way I am revealing intel to a damn child! Remington thought to himself, as he spotted one of the target items on Elric's desk, near the back of it, just about hitting the wall. It was the small green box, the container Elriquir Forronea tablets, as he was told. His eyes glimmered a bit, as he stepped around Anya, "Oh well. I appreciate the gesture, but I can find what Elric wanted me to check out, and take a look at." He reached over as he plucked the box, and held it in his right hand very preciously.

His eyes darted around, as he began examining the bookshelves, which were full of various medical books. Where is it? IT has to be here somewhere. His eyes darted back upon Anya, "And I would love to get him a gift, I really would, but I need to secure the items he entrusted me with first you see."

Remington's eyes focused back on the bookshelf like a hawk, looking for a fresh mouse. Why did you have to have so many books!? Why didn't you just leave it on the desk!? Then a thought dawned upon him. Where was the Glyconea Fulquea!? He thought as he glanced at the girl.

"Well, perhaps there is one item, that I could use help finding. It is in a small container and is red. Did you happen to see anything like it when you were playing in the study?"

"What use is there in feeling remorse for a mere rat?" James asked, trudging forward.
"He has served his purpose, which was to be butchered in an alley. If he doesn't like it, he should have run away."

Ark'kruy'ek and the three Gnolls he was accompanied by chuckled when the dwarf call him a dog. "You want to see my pack. It long walk. Sure little feet can carry you?" Ark'kruy'ek said in a manner that would appear to be joking. "If insult is too much then me will be quiet." Ark'kruy'ek barked and pointed his sword at one of the Gnoll. "Follow." Ark'kruy'ek waited for them to start moving and then walked behind them. The Gnoll surrounded the group in each direction so if the group tried anything they wouldn't have an immediately advantage. The group was lead for several miles. The land they traveled through was stunning compared to what was out there. The grass looked healthy and the trees grew tall. As the group began to get closer, they would notice a more abundance of Gnolls which was to be expected. A deer ran by but was taken down by a Gnoll that pounced on it and dug its teeth into its neck. "Looks like we have extra." The group was lead through the forest for several miles until the land began to slowly change to the plains. A camp could be sighted. It looked lively. Newborns and young Gnolls were play fighting in the large fields they had to roam around in. The camp looked to be the size of a village. The group would find themselves being stared at various Gnoll. Ark'kruy'ek let out a howl which caused the Gnoll to form a group. "You want look." Ark'kruy'ek stated as he pointed to his pack. Their fur colors varied from shades of brown to red and those in between. There were several with black fur that made them stand out from the group but none shown to have any color or shade that could resemble green. The size of the pack showed that it could be quite formidable of organized correctly and it sure showed that the stories of its raids in the past could have easily been truth. "Domestic safety gave chance for renumbers." Ark'kruy'ek said as the visiting group gazed at the pack.

The Dwarf gestured with his right hand, holding it upwards as the two humans kept their place and followed him. He did not say a word, as the Gnolls moved in to surround, though the human on his right reached over for one of his weapons. "Easy now. We are solely here for the mission. That is it." The man grumbled, as he retracted his hand back. The Dwarf continued following the Gnoll and his crew as they approached the encampment.

The female glared, for a moment, before seemingly watching in thought, doing a head-count of the Gnolls assembled. The Dwarf glanced at them with his good eye, "... Hnrmph." He grumbled out, as he began stroking his beard. "Have you tamers of beasts among your ranks?" The human male spoke up, "Hyena. Grushtov it was called. Do you have anything that resembling it?"

The human female finished her general analysis of the camp before glancing at the Dwarf, "We should continue inspection, there could be useful traces here." The Dwarf finished tugging at his beard, "Aye. We are here, we shall inspect for any traces of the Gnoll and Hyena, and see if they have been through here."

Anya toddled after Remington as he walked around the study, looking intently at all the things he was looking at and watching him pick up a green box. She didn't know why a sick man needed a green box, but maybe there was medicine or a toy in it.

"Oh! Yes, I saw a bottle just like that," chirped Anya, happy to be of help to Mr. Elric. The girl skipped over to the drawer where she had left the thing, and presented the now empty bottle to the guard.

"Sorry I used up all the fingerpaints. I didn't know Mr. Elric would be sick, because he seemed just fine only a couple of hours ago," stated Anya sadly, "But it wasn't very good fingerpaints. I bet you could get some better ones at the market! That can be your present!"

Remington stared at the empty bottle, taking it with a quick and aggressive swipe, as his eyebrow frantically twitched up and down. That little... SHE... No, no Remington. Calm down, don't fail your task, due to the rotten brat. He took a deep breath in, and out as he held onto the box. Peering back at Anya, "Well, something came up, you see. The sickness must have only recently affected him. Trust me, I'm a friend of Elric, you wouldn't believe the stories about sickness he'd tell."

He paused as he moved closer towards the girl, and paused, "Say, what did you use to make those fingerprints." If she ruined the book as well... No! No, it will be fine. With all the medical books he has! It would be a slim chance she chose it anyway. He thought to himself as he tried to calm himself down. "Maybe Elric would like to see that painting? But... what exactly did you use to make it?"

"Ah... nothing, nothing." Shork smiled a little wider now, looking back at his fellow half-orc. "I was just glad to see you... happy to hear that the rumours of half-orc scholars here are true. Not a whole lot of us around Estermere, and it feels like dark times are coming with the attack yesterday and all." The hunter realised that he might very well sound like a fool in front of the others, but it didn't matter much to him right now - seeing kindred spirits living and thriving in Estermere, especially when most of the inhabitants were either fully human or fully elven, made him sincerely happy. He'd found out himself just how hard it could be sometimes.

"So... all i'd want of you, Rovtar, is for you to know that if there's anything you need, at any time, just come and tell me. That goes for you too, half-elf.", he said turning his head to Trafalgar. "Life can be tough, even moreso as one of us, and it might get a whole lot tougher soon. Half-breeds gotta stick together in some regards, I think. If you need me, i'll be there. That's all."

Ark'kruy'ek kneeled down to the dwarf. "Beast masters....we have few." Ark'kruy'ek tone changed to be sound serious. "Distance means we like keep to our selves. Hatred means danger." Ark'kruy'ek said as he points to the man who had almost made an insult when they met. "Location not well known. We safe from intolerance here." Ark'kruy'ek hoped the dwarf got his meaning that he didn't want the location of his pack camp known because it might suffer attacks from those who didn't tolerate his kind. Ark'kruy'ek put his finger on the dwarfs chest. "Respect each other." Ark'kruy'ek was really trying to prove that his pack didn't mean harm to the people they lived by. He knew that his kind was hated and hoped to prove that the past was behind them and that they didn't want trouble. Ark'kruy'ek let out a yip and the other Gnolls got back to their business. He then led the group to the head beast master. The beast master looked quite large even for a Gnoll and was covered in various scars that resembled claw and bite marks. He dawned light leather around his legs, shoulders, and arms along with several necklaces that seemed to be made of teeth from various beasts. The beast master looked at the group and then Ark'kruy'ek. Ark'kruy'ek turned to the beast master and then back to the group. "He understand common but no speak it. Yes or no question only." The beast master moved to the side to show several large wolves that looked like they were meant for battle.

"Oh! you mean the paintbook," said Anya, rifling through all the books she considered painting in before locating the one she used. The girl held up a copy of On Glyconea Fulquea, frowning.

"The paint was watery and smelled kind of funny, so I couldn't make very good art with it."

Anya flipped through the pages of the book, showing Remington all of her beautiful pictures which happened to cause much of the ink to leak and become illegible.

"See? This one's of papa and me, and you can kind of make it out."

There were two crudely drawn stick figures in light red on that page, one of which was tall and had some very blocky armor while the other had long hair and a dress. They were labeled 'papa' and 'me' respectively, and both figures were smiling.

Rovtar frowned, "I heard of that... Though I was outside the city, researching the stars." Rovtar grinned, as he bared his yellow fangs as he looked up to the sky, "It was a lovely night for research." He blinked as he glanced towards Shork "Was it true that a hyena ravaged through the marketplace? I mean, I saw the damage, but I'm still surprised it would be something like that." Rovtar nodded at Shork, "Yes, oh yes it can be. And I extend the same offer to you. And speaking of Half-breeds, it was a driving force of why I decided to join the Astronomer's Guild." He grumbled, "To disprove the myth of Half-orcs and... Well you know." He knowingly looked at Shork. He returned his focus onto his papers, and went through them yet again.

---

The Dwarf kept his attention focused on the Gnoll as he was explaining the situation of its pack. He simply glanced at the Gnoll as he put his claw on his chest. The human male glared, as the Dwarf simply glanced up at him, a stern look and the man backed down. "Aye." The Dwarf tersely stated. As they were being led through the camp, the human female took several glances all around, as if she was mentally marking them down. The human male was glaring at the various disease ridden creatures. We are in the Den of Scum and Villainy. he thought. The Dwarf simply kept focused on the task at hand, and that meant figuring out if they had sent the hyena, or if the Gnoll passed through here. That was the matter of importance.

Then they reached the Beast-master. The Dwarf nodded, "Simple enough." He glanced at the Beast Master. "Own hyenas?" He inquired. The other two at his side glanced at the wolves that the beast-tamer had kept. The humans at his side kept quiet and waited for the response of the Beast Master.

---

Remington's eyebrow was again twitching, along with his right eye just below it. She did what!? THE BOOK IS ILLEGIBLE! He began breathing in and out, trying to remain calm. "Y-yes..." he said through gritted teeth. No, no, act like nothing is horribly wrong. He breathed in and out again. "...Yes, yes I'm sure you tried... your best." To make me want to... No, no. He paused for a moment as he glanced at Anya, "You didn't paint in any other books did you?" he inquired of the little girl.

I've got to check on the situation downstairs, he's probably wondering on why it is taking so long... Remington thought to himself.

The sun was high over Estermere, but it wasn't warm. No matter how hard it tried, no matter how powerful its rays, it failed to bring even a sliver of heat to the cold graveyard on the outskirts of town.
No-one went there anymore. The living were to busy with their own lives to care about the dead. The graves would be lost to vandals and vines if it wasn't for the efforts of a small handful of devoted gravekeepers... and one very unique girl.
Liesel Steinhartz had become something of a mascot for the graveyard. Every morning, she could be found playing amongst the tombs and graves. She never stayed for longer than an hour, but she was always back before the yard was locked up for the night. She must have slept in the mausoleum, or perhaps she had found a warm catacomb to hole up in.
She was a welcome addition to the dreary grave, which was not something everyone said about her. Little Liesel was scary. She wasn't mean or rude, and she didn't say or do anything particularly sinister. But her eyes, her fangs and her skin all terrified the residents of the town, and her unusual association with the undead just alienated her further. There were some who wanted Liesel gone - to another town, another country, another world. Estermere could be a harsh place.

---

"Hey, freak!"
Liesel turned around. She didn't know what she was expecting - she was so use to getting abuse that any taunt or insult was enough to grab her attention. Maybe she just wanted to see who it was, or maybe she was hoping that it was someone else getting it in the neck for once.
Alas, such hopes were in vain. The cry was most certainly directed her way - in fact, she should have expected it. She was walking down Harkness Street after all. And who lived in Harkness Street?
Tarush Gra-Maluk.
Tarush three things: She was smart. She was attractive. And she was an Ork. Add in the fact that she despised every fibre of Liesel's being and she made a formidable foe. She was a couple of years older than Liesel, too, and far stronger.
"Long time, no see, Liesel." Tarush was flanked by her usual crowd of punks and thugs, leering nastily. "Where have you been? We've missed you."
"Oh, you know" Liesel started nervously. This was not what she needed right now. "Just kind of... drifting."
"Huh. That's funny." Tarush took a few steps closer. "If I didn't know any better, I'd say you've been avoiding me."
Liesel's silence was all the Ork needed.
"Aww, what's wrong? Are you scared of me, Liesel? The little vampire is scared of the big, bad Ork?"
The gang giggled at that. Liesel finally found some words she could use.
"I'm sorry, Tarush, I really must get going." she stammered out, taking a few steps back.
Tarush wasn't having it, though. "What's the rush? Me and the girls want to catch up.". As she spoke, Tarush's assembled gang walked around Liesel, creating a circle with her and her rival at the heart. She was well and truly trapped.
"It's been a while, little witch. Where have you been hiding all this time?"
"I've got a job, up by the old cemetary."
"Oh?" the Ork's ears picked up, warning Liesel she was on thin ice. One wrong move and she'd be dealing with midnight visits fron Tarush and her gang. "And what job would that be?"
"I'm a... I can't say"
"Oh, but you will say," Tarush smirked, the circle around them tightening "whether you do so willingly or not doesn't matter. Believe me, Liesel, I have ways to make you say anything I want to hear"
Liesel didn't doubt her for a moment. She'd seen what happened when someone disobeyed Tarush. It wasn't pretty. "I'm a night guard. I look after the cemetery when the diggers go away"
"You? A night guard? You can't even protect yourself, much less a whole cemetery."
Liesel said nothing. Tarush took that as acceptance.
"Unless, of course, you have someone helping you. Who's the lucky guy, witch?"
"There is no guy..."
"So it's a girl, then?"
"What? No! I don't..."
"Woah, calm down, you crazy bitch! It's not as unnatural as the rest of you."
Liesel looked around nervously. Some people were staring. Others were hurrying on, as though they didn't see what was going on. Not one of them came to her aid.
Tarush continued "Or maybe it's not a person at all? Is the corpses? You get turned on by the dead?"
"It isn't like that at all..."
"You sneak into the graveyard, find a nice lady corpse and settle in for the night, is that it?"
By now, no-one could ignore it. The kids had started chanting "Fight! Fight! Fight!" and the adults just stared. No-one moved a muscle.
But Tarush was relentless "Maybe you could get through two, three bodies a night? Have you got a favourite? I always wondered why you carried that shovel around."
But little Liesel did not want to get in a fight today. She knew she would lose to the comparitavly huge Ork, unless she had some otherworldly help, and she was not summoning a Ghost in the middle of Harkness Street. Enough people called her a witch already.
"Leave me alone, Tarush."
"Or what? What are you going to do, creep? Cry? Run away? Hide?"
Gods above, Liesel hated her grin. It took every ounce of her not to lunge at the bullying greenskin and wipe that smirk off her face.
"Face it, you stupid necro-slut, you can't do shit to me. You're just a little pussy who's scared of the light. No-one gives a crap what happens to you. They wouldn't even bury you in the graveyard you love so much. They'd just toss you in a ditch and let you rot."
"Seriously, Tarush, cut it out" Liesel was fighting back tears. She would not cry, she told herself. She could not allow herself to cry.
"Make me."
Little did Tarush know those two words would unleash a whole hellstorm.
"I tried to warn you." Liesel was crying openly now, but it wasn't from what Tarush was saying. It was because she knew what was going to happen next.
The spell was a quick one. No fancy words, no evil chants, just lift your hand and will the creature to appear. Necromancy was easy when you knew how to do it.
It took all of three seconds for Tarush to notice the Wraith. In those three seconds, all chanting had stopped, all smirks had fallen and the tight circle of thugs had reformed into a ragtag group of cowards running for their lives. A lot can happen in three seconds, it seems.
Tarush's screams matched the Wraith's ear-piercing, high pitched wail. Before the shadowy ghost could do anything, though, the Ork had scarpered, showing impressive speed for one so heavy. Pretty much everyone else joined her, the few who didn't standing statue still.
"Thanks." Liesel muttered to the ghost. In return, the Wraith did a sort of levitating bow, before being sent back to its own world. He might start attacking anyone who looked at him funny if he stayed.
When it was all over, Liesel turned to the remaining onlookers and shrugged her shoulders "What?"
Before any of them could reply, she smiled and walked on. The taste of victory was in her mouth and it was sweet.

Mortimer was in the crowd who watched that awful, awful child who dragged something from the beyond to assault children. Mortimer was a simple man, a wheat farmer who lived outside of the city limits, who would grow his crops. Usually he kept to himself, when not going to provide the wheat to the fine people of Estermere. However, today he visited his far more interesting friend Jeoffry who lived down at Harkness Street. Mortimer himself was a simple man, had a loving wife, and some children, all that was really all he would ask for in life.

As the child did well that, and this entire situation was beyond him. As such a fear that manifested itself, well mostly through soiled pantaloons, which were oozing, as the sludgelike contents well, dripped down to his bare feet. He felt his lips quivering, and his body shaking, as his skin grew pale, but not nearly as pale as the one who caused him to feel such fear.

He was one of the few who felt such fear at this horror, that he could not flee. I-I... his thoughts echoed out in his mind, as even thinking he was unable to express himself with proper tongue. With a quick movement he fled from the scene, following the others who had already left.

Mortimer knew he had a place he could turn to, the Church of Pelor. And he fled in its direction, Must... tell the clergy! Must tell the clergy! And as such he ran off.

---

The same could not be said of Jeoffry, who stood there in terror. Jeoffry didn't run off, for well he lived in the area, he had no place to run too. Jeoffry was a taller man than his friend Mortimer. Jeoffry stood at six feet and five inches, as compared to Mortimer who stood at five feet and five inches. Jeoffry certainly looked more of sterner stuff as well. He had a strong jaw-line, dark blue eyes, and dark red hair, and a body that was built like a sturdy barn. It certainly helped Jeoffry in his profession as a lumberjack. Which was fortunate for him, as he had a large axe with him, which was rusted with age, which did hinder it a bit in the work. But it was an heirloom from his pa, and his pa's pa, and so on, and Jeoffry treasured it as such.

Glaring at Liesel, Jeoffry drew his axe which was drawn upon his back. Stuttering a bit, "W-what..." he couldn't find the words he was searching for. The sight did frighten him, but from that fright emerged an indignation towards her. "BEAST ARE YOU!?" he howled out, as gobbets of phlegm flew from his crooked and worn teeth, heading towards Liesel. Most of it landed promptly in the dirt, but a few had a much higher velocity and force to it, and landed upon her dress.

Anya raised an eyebrow at the man. He seemed to be breathing pretty heavily, and his face looked weird. Maybe he was sick too, or caught whatever Elric had. One thing was for sure, though; Anya had to make certain he was OK.

"No," replied Anya, "I only painted in this one."

Anya paused for a second to collect her thoughts before continuing.

"Mister Elric's friend guy? Are you sick too? You're acting funny. Do you want me to help you into a bed or go find some medicine?" asked Anya, genuinely concerned for the man's well-being.

He couldn't help but have the microexpression of contempt, as his lips stretched out to the right as she mentioned medicine. ...By the Emperor, it must be done. And of course to cure the spite I am feeling. But first... Remington thought to himself, as he approached the bookshelves as he began pulling out books and checking their covers, and the first pages mentioned. After searching an actual dozen books he found the book! The Thesis on Elriquir Forronea! Remington smirked as he examined the leather-bound book and held it under his right shoulder, where he kept the box of Elriquir Forronea tablets. Remington held up his left index finger as he glanced at Anya, "Hold on one moment, I'll be right back, I just need a little stroll is all."

With that Remington exited the study and went downstairs where he saw, his goon carrying Elric on his shoulder. He glared at the burly axe man, "Mimsy? W-what did you do? You didn't kill him did you?" Remington said as his right eye twitched.

The burly man in plate shook his head, "Course not boss. Just a lil' smack, he'll be fine." Remington's eye continued twitching, "Mimsy, remember the last time you said that?" Mimsy blinked at his boss, "Sure I do. I hit him less hard, and at the skull not the neck. I learned from that mistake." Remington furrowed his brow as he used his left hand to rub his temple, "Mimsy, just take these and head over." He handed over the book and box of tablets to Mimsy. Mimsy grabbed them as he scratched his head with his left hand, "But what abou-" Remington gave him the glare, the 'Shut Up Mimsy' glare.

"R-right boss. I'm sure we'll get it all for sure. I-I'll just leave now." Mimsy nodded, as he peered outside the hole in the wall and began walking away with Elric on his shoulder, and the box and book in his possession. "Oh poor Elric... I hardly knew thee..." Mimsy said, as Remington frowned.

Damn it Mimsy, if you botch this up, I'll. Remington thought as he headed back up the stairs and into the study. He glanced back at Anya, "Well I've cleared up my head, and I am more sure than ever on what I need to do."

The beast master thought for several seconds when it heard the dwarfs question. It then held up one finger and walked into a tent. It came out with a large hyena with fur that had a red tint to it. Ark'kruy'ek let out a small chuckle. "Rosie." Ark'kruy'ek said indicating its name. One thing the hyena did that made it stand out was that it was limping a bit. The beast master then showed that there was a wound that looked to be caused by an arrow. The wound itself looked to be several days old but didn't show sign of infection. Ark'kruy'ek spoke up. "We still hunted by elves in your village." Another Gnoll walked up to Ark'kruy'ek and handed him several scrolls. Ark'kruy'ek opened them at an angel where the visiting group couldn't see even with the light of the sun bearing down. What looked like a grin grew on Ark'kruy'ek face as he rolled them up and held to them tightly. "Anything else?" Ark'kruy'ek said as the group looked around.