Fleeing warriors of the rival tribe, is what Atl soon saw, confirming a win for his strange new tribe. He did not think of pursuit, because he knew they'd train, and become stronger. And that is exactly what Atl wanted. He began grinning, as some of the blood which did not dry out, slithered down his face, and dripped onto the ground below, near Slayer who was right next to Atl's legs.

He used his burned arm as he reached down and grabbed Slayer, his fingers slowly wrapping around the cat's torso. "Slayer! What say of run in battle!?" He said, rather passionately. Slayer meowed and playfully batted Atl's nose with his paw. Atl boisterously chortled.

"It only Slayer first fight in fire. Me understand." He said, while somewhat listening as Pale Hide With Little Honor, was rambling on about another tribe who wanted Chieftain's lands. Atl placed down his cat as he noticed Joachim ask the burned tribal maiden about horses.

"Get meat from dead." Atl said as he gestured with his right hand as he pointed at a horse carcass. He glanced at the woman before she spoke, "T-thank you for freeing me from the fire."

Atl glanced at the woman, "Village need fix." She gazed around, now fully realizing the destruction that occurred as she fell onto her knees, dropping the plank Atl gave her earlier for protection. She began shedding tears, as Atl mused upon it. "Maybe her first too?" He grumbled out to himself.

Dropping to his right knee he glanced at the woman on her level. "I see stone. I work stone. Help fix village. Make weapon for defend." He said, deciding that, well this village gave him a fun fight, he should help out these tribal villagers.

The woman stopped crying as she immediately wrapped her arms around the Savage, who not only saved her life but promised to help fix up the village. After a moment of embrace, Atl ripped himself from it. "Other tribesmen?" he asked of the woman, who assumed that he was talking about villagers. She quickly headed off to search for others who managed to survive, as Atl walked up towards the knight Barnaby.

He quickly removed the gauntlet of the hand he smashed in, and scanned the area for a knife. Luckily he found one, and he switched the mace out for it. Atl began hacking away at the bone, and after many strikes from it he pried the hand off. He ditched the knife as he kept a hold of the hand, and walked with Slayer to the stables.

Holding the trophy hand, and his cat he mounted upon the steed and sent it to wait with Joachim. "... Maybe me stay here to work some stone." Atl muttered to himself out-loud.

Talan and Kiata rode double on their horse, Solas. The couple newly wed on their first ride togethor rode through across the vast plainslands in the moonlight. Talan could feel the cool wind against his face as Solas galloped across the plains, he could hear his horses feet as they pounded into the ground. But most of all he could see the eyes of his beloved, her gorgeous amber eyes contrasting sharply with the dark night. "Ar vaas ettan ti beritara(I will love you forever)", she whispered softly to him. In return he said with in a tone he has not spoken in some time, "Ki vaas ar nami sheretta(As will I, my one love)"

In another moment Talan was on his knees a brand freshly made on his chest still burning as he was forced to watch his home, his people, and his wife burn to death. In his lust for power he destroyed everything he hoped to gain...and now the only thing he anticipated was death. A man stood before him, blocking his view of the fires only to speak the last words Talan would hear in his tounge, "Ti rem doreth. Ti rem gradem, et chitak mra ye drohat hast viir!(You are nothing. You are filth, an insect to be killed when seen)" The towering Kahldari struck him with the butt of his khopesh shocking Talan awake.

It was just a dream, visions of the past. Ever since that night he has been haunted by visions of that night. The night he lost everything. Sitting up from the pile of hay that substituted for a bed he shed no tears for what he had done. Although he was greatly saddened by the loss of his wife and tribe he had no more tears to shed. The time to mourn the dead has long past and now was the time for Talan to replace what he had lost. However he would probably never be able to find another wife for himself. 

He got up from the ground and walked over to the entrance of the holding chamber, he could hear the faint footsteps of the guards as they approached the door to change shifts. Once the new guards were at their stations Talan took it upon himself to learn what he could about this new land he was in. "Did yuh hear the news?", one guard asked to his partner. The other simply replied with a puzzled look on his face. "Word is there's been a battle at the village up river near Stag's Rest. The Queen's Guard against some raiders", the guard continued on.

"Raiders? Maybe Jethan's boys?", the other asked. 

"Maybe or it could be the king's men, either way I'm just glad we didn't get dragged into that mess"

"Thank God for that", there was a short silence before the guards spoke again. This time about something of more interest to Talan. 

"Say ain't the Queen's Guard them band of mercenaries?", one of the guards asked. The other scoffed at the remark, "Oh you mean them lot of cutthroats n savages? If they be the Queen's Guard I might as well be the high lord of his mightyness the king!", the two idiots laughed before continuing their conversation.

"Where'd you s'pose they get their men? There ain't no men like they got here."

"Prob'ly from the far east the savages beyond the mountains, or the centaurs across the Howlin' Sea. I hear the ones beyond the mountain live in deserts and jungles and such." 

"Ain't one of these lot a centuar?" The guard peaked through the gate into the chamber and right at Talan who was almost right next to them. The guard jumped back and aimed his spear at him, "This one's a sneaky little shit. He don't look like no horse man though!"

The other guard lowered his partner's spear, "Relax he ain't going no where, they ain't that kind of centaur. They called that because they ride horses all the time. I read they ride horses when they just little babies, start 'em young so they are real good at ridin" 

The spearman snorted as he relaxed his speararm, "Since when were you the savage expert" he turned to Talan with a stupid sarcastic look on his face, "Is that right, centaur? You real good at ridin'?" The two guards laughed hysterically but Talan didn't say a word. He simply walked away from the gate and into the dark recesses of the chamber. He knew what he was going to do. These "Queen's Guard"-whatever that was-have made travels to Rannos from what he heard. If he could get to them he could get one of their ships to take him home. Finding them would be easy, the fools at the gate said they were up the river. The hard part was getting out of this prison. 

While the guardsmen stayed at their post passing the time chatting away about whatever idiotic topic came to mind, Talan was preparing for his escape. He fashioned a shiv from a piece of metal he found laying around the chamber. With it he used it to saw away the chains that bound his hands togethor. Unlike the ones on the slave ship, these chains were actually thinner-unusually thinner-as if these had been used for some time and were worn away greatly. However the act of cutting the chains was a tedious one and took quite a bit of time, usually a few days but the drive Talan had in him made try harder than normal sawing away as fast and as hard as he could almost getting heat or sparks from the friction. He stopped right before the chain would snap so as to maintain the illusion he was still in binds. When then time was right he'd break the chain, kill the guards and the one who whipped him, then be on his way to this "Stag's Rest".

 

Wren turned from Rand, face still stoic and hiding the pain from her injury. She wasn’t the type to have a face contorted in pain or show any kind of weakness to anyone. She wasn’t near any of the enemy at the moment, so she took the time to kneel. She dug through until she found a pouch of powder. She looked up around her again, and still not seeing anyone, began applying generous amounts of the powder to the wound to help it stop bleeding. She didn’t have much in the way of an ability to stitch it, but she always had some herbs on her. She closed the bag quickly and went to stand once more when Astrid came out of nowhere, holding up a shield and letting an arrow bounce off. Wren just watched with raised brow, an almost amused face, until Astrid offered her hand. Wren simply sneered and stood on her own.

”My legs work fine. Put your hand away,” she said firmly, as if insulted. She held her sword tightly in her hand, eyes narrowed at Astrid, and if one had no knowledge of their relationship, would almost assume they were enemies. But Wren's gaze instead began to drift to the enemy which was retreating. Clearing her throat, she pointed to the retreating men with her blade, gesturing for the other woman to notice. She left the woman to do what she wanted before walking over to Joachim, who said the obvious. That they should head back to Gnarl and the Queen. She nodded silently, looking towards the stables and following the others. She mounted a rather boring brown horse with a white spot on its face, meeting the rest of the company who had come outside. Atl’s horse simply had his cat on it, which was a rather amusing image. But at the moment, despite the fact that her bleeding had lessened to barely a trickle, she felt a bit woozy atop her horse, and just wanted to get back.

Theodore

As the men progressed, so did the morning. More and more of the both the company and the guard started to pick up on the training. After a few hours of personal training Theo found it sufficient to start throwing other people into the ring. Eventually they started making groups from the guardsmen to build their effectiveness as a team. There was progress, although some injuries were sustained. Three guardsmen were pulled out of action, one of which had received a rather nasty looking fracture to the leg, Theo had advised to walk it off; the was poorly received however. Theodore was also forced to retire Yorwen from the fighting pits, too much protest, but left after threatened with disciplinary actions.

At the end of the morning the old warrior found himself next to one of the senior sergeants of the guard; A scruffy looking man by the name of Varne. After a series of bouts they had concluded to a draw, both sides scoring two victories each. Having put Lars, Owen, Liam and Valdor in the ring against twice their number of guardsmen. Theo was commanding his men from the side line, as was Varne for his. Formations were quickly formed as orders were shouted, the same formations were broken on enemy contact and reformed again for the next assault. On the guard's side three men were quickly picked off and taken out of the fight. They were young and reckless boys who would still learn their place. On Theo's side Liam was the first one to leave the ring, the guards had sprung a trap around him realizing he would form the biggest threat. In the end it was just Owen against two of the guardsmen. Having expended most of his energy early on in the fight things weren't looking to his favor, but the two guards seemed almost reluctant to come within striking distance. Eventually Varne gave the order for them to attack simultaneously and Owen was forced his hand. He pushed one of the guard back with his shield as his club came down on the other. Not having enough strength to pin the first one down Owen was struck across the ribs with a training sword and thus officially ending the fight. Owen was a sour loser however and assailed the victor from behind, pushing his face into the dirt and beating his fist against his spine. In the end it took Valdor, Liam and Theo to get him off Owen's hapless victim, who was turned over to the physician for medical care. Owen received lashes for actions.

After that Theo decided that there would only be drilling and training. The sparing matches would have to be postponed until everyone was back on his feet. Leaving the less exciting work to his cronies Theo made for Gnarls office, it was time to file a report on the progress.
Even though Theo had a great disliking to Gnarl on a personal level, he wouldn't let it shine through in his duties. The man was his commander and with such station required a certain amount of respect. Knocking before entering Theo took up his customary stance, his legs slightly spread and his hands clasped behind his back while his gaze was held at a slight upwards angle. Theo was sure to put in a crisp Sir or two in his report. Half the guard off duty had received drilling in both man to man as well as formational training. Six of theirs in the infirmary together with two company men, one of which due to disciplinary measures performed by Yorwen. As an added bonus, sir. I managed to get a little close with one of their sergeants, Varne. He seems to think a small tournament might boost the morale of both his and our men. Have a little prize at end or something. Theo had thought it a good idea at the time too.

The band returns.

---

Joachim sat atop the saddle once again, sitting like a true rider and nobleman -- straight up, chin high, chest forwards as the hores slowly strutted over towards the road that led to Stags Rest. He swayed side to side in the saddle a bit, one hand on the hilt of his blade and the other holding the reins. They had agreed to leave Atl behind in the village to begin with the reconstructing, and possibly looking for survivors, lest he give more trouble to the queen by acting savagely. „I think it's safe to say this means war, the queen would never stand for an attack on her people. And if she does, then we are employed by a coward. Most of the boars will rather walk away branded a mutineer or a deserter than fight for a coward. She'd be smart to answer this attack, lest she wishes to see her entire warband and guard disband. What's your say on the manner, guys?” he'd ask, enquiring about their opinions on matters. After all they were all boars, and even though they were not all equals in combat, they were definetely equals in rank. Their opinions and findings were just as valid as Joachims.

Once more, they crossed the Tyne. The ground near it was muddy, and hoofprints could be found all over the place due to the travel density of this area. However it all seemed quiet now, the aftermath of the raid keeping away weary travelers and the sorts. Perhaps bandits roamed the forests too, after all Joachim had been gone for a long time so he wouldn't know about the regions problems. Not that there were bandits stupid enough to hold up a band of mercenaries, let alone the queens guard. Never the less it would be a good idea to look into that sooner or later. They rode closer to the village by the minute, and at their near-arrival the gate and portcullis were opened, the heavy Iron-oaken doors creaking as they opened. Joachim rode in and put his horse in the stables, sliding off the saddle beforehand and handing the reins to the stableboy. He raised his hand to Sikarthis, beckoning him to follow suit and come with Joachim.

---

Gnarl had been busy talking to the castle guards captain, Ser Redrik 'the Fat', about their new cooperation and how to best utilize both skillsets. Well, the skillsets of the Queens Guard more or less, as the castle guards skillset was mostly eating, drinking and sleeping. However just as he was about to ask Ser Redrik to leave so he could attend to more important manners such as the defenses of the castle, Theo came in. Gnarl waved Redrik away, whom hobbled off out of the Bear's quarters. „Yes, Theodore?” Gnarl said as he looked Theo in the face. The guy was a 'do it my own way' kinda guy, something Gnarl could both appreciate and become annoyed by rather easily.

Gnarl sat back and listened to the report, nodding every now and then. It was short for a report but it got the point across. „Right then, thanks for the report. Dismissed, soldier.” He didn't give much thought to the tournament, they had more pressing matters to attend to, but it seemed like a good idea. He thought about it for a short time and decided that if it was to happen, it would be Theodore doing the preparations for it. It was after all his idea, and Gnarl hadn't the time nor the motivation to do the job.

Right as he was about to get up to go freshen up in the courtyard at the well, he was interupted once again by Joachim, who had made his way into his quarters. „Hrng, blue-blood. Back from the village so soon?” he asked, noticeably annoyed by the second interuption. He eyed the two men, Joachim and Sikarthis, as he waited for their report. Joachim opened the conversation, replying straight to the point. „Yes Bear, we found the village being raided under leadership of one of Ewains men, Aemon Howard. He got killed, the rest of the warband routed back to their hold. However all of us got wounded one way or another, nothing too lethal though.”

Gnarl smacked his fist down on the table hard, shaking Joachim up as he didn't expect this response. An attack this early in? He'd expected the other lords to take advantage of the situation, but not so soon. Ewain was a strong lord, too. But not striking back would mean they were weak, cowards and not worthy of their titles. He got up and walked past the two, forcing his way past using his shoulder. Joachim and Sikarthis had no other option than to follow him. They were headed straight for the keep, walking across the courtyard where Joachim would glance briefly at the other soldiers to see what they'd be doing during the brief period of rest. If Gnarl was going to propose to the lady of Stags Rest what Joachim thought, they'd have no rest for the coming month.

---

The door to the lady's chambers opened with a big swing, stopped only by the chamber pot behind the door. „My lady, sorry for my intrusion but we've come to be under attack by the treacherous lords to the North, lord Eowen. His men and his steward, Aemon Howard, have attacked your village and slaughtered your peasantry.” His voice was loud and unfitting for speaking to a royalty, but then again, if she was royalty where was her crown.. that was probably the same motivation that lord Eowen had had when he attacked the village, as lady Isolde's power had dimished greatly as she lost the crown to her brother. „We cannot stand for such an act of aggression, not if we wish to seem strong in the eyes of the other lords!” Joachim and Sikarthis would be forced to stand by as Gnarl treated the lady like a mercenary would, his voice loud, powerful and aggressive in the eyes of a challenge like that of Eowen. „Sikarthis, Joachim, tell your lady Isolde what you saw, that she may come to see the situation at hand here.”

Joachim would step forward, to give Sikarthis a moment to think about what to say and observe the customs of this country, as Gnarl had failed to show them properly. As he stepped forward Joachim would slowly move into a bow, looking at the ground and slowly get up. „My lady,” he opened, looking her straight in the eyes to bring across the urgence of the situation. „We rode to Tyne's Hall, hoping to enter the inn and ask for information about the kings scouts or possible warbands of the king in the area, when we were faced with raiders. We were uncertain if it were slavers, raiders or the kings men themselves.” Joachim took the freedom and liberty to walk towards the window in the wall, pointing outside in the direction of the village, where black smoke covered the horizon. „It was only after the battle we found out it were Eowen's militia, no doubt levied from his bannermen. They were lead by Aemon Howard, a brutish pig-faced knight who is said to never take no for an answer. He was.. he was Eowen's steward my lady, so he will no doubt come here looking for justice if you leave the initiative to him. I'm afraid that given the circumstances, your brother, the king of Arlon, would grant Eowen the right here, as we cannot prove that we simply defended our people. My lady, if I am so free to speak, I advice we do act one way or another, perhaps you can still appeal to your brother. Otherwise,” Joachim extended his arm towards Gnarl, bowing his head slightly.

„I am afraid Gnarl is right. We would seem weak and little. We have no bannermen to rally to your cause, and your only holdings are Stags Rest and the Tyne Hall. If we were to attack their main holding, we'd have to attack within the fortnight or else Eowen will be able to get his bannermen to reinforce his home. We'd be doomed.” And there was truth to his sayings, if they were to not act at all, they'd come under siege and king Godwin would not interfere because they could not prove they defended the villagers. And if they were too slow to act, Eowen would have the time needed to levy his bannermen to his side and assemble a true army. He looked at Sikarthis, waiting for him to speak about his findings, opinions and the like.

Rand looked at Wren, his eyes were full of concern but he nodded, leaving as Astrid approached to help the girl up. He wandered through the village looking at the destruction before picking up his broken glaive, the man he had knocked out earlier was just starting to move as he approached. He was greeted with a boot to the face knocking him back out and then slung over Rand's shoulder. Walking to the edge of the village he nodded to both tribesmen and Joachim, before letting out a loud whistle. Within minutes Stepper came over the hills and was in front of the knight, slinging the unconscious man over the front of the saddle Rand climbed up and on his horse and started heading back to the castle.

The Ride back was silent nobody said anything really, the raiding of the village was a massive blow and the opening hand in a game that was to played whether the queen liked it or not. As they road through the gates into the courtyard Rand was one of the last to dismount due to having to take the unconscious man from the saddle as well. Letting a slave take Stepper to the stables the knight made his way through the hall getting weird looks due to the man slung across his shoulder, but he ignored them as he made his way into the queens chambers they were already talking but it was about an attack.

Rand interrupted the conversation by throwing the man on the floor like a sack of potatoes, he gave the queen a deep bow and spoke. "I apologize for any interruptions but, i believe my two comrades are wrong M'lady." He said his voice firm and steady as he continued. "This man is more than willing to be a fitting pawn for your schemes. I say we hold out here and feed him our best food, buy him the best whores, and give him one of the nicest beds we have, then we simply give him a horse and let him go. When he makes it back to his lord and his peoples he will speak of our abundance of food and resources that we could last any siege. It might delay the lord or cancel any invasion he might have so we can effectively probe and scout his lands." Rand cleared his throat and continued. "Any counterattack even with his forces in disarray is just going to end with what ever rag tag groups winding up on our flanks, and from a tactical stand point our exit. I suppose a few harassing skirmishes should be in order though." Rand said and waited for the answer from both the queen and the group.

The wind blew a steady breeze into Guinand's face. His eyes squinted to peer farther into the distance. These tracks make no sense, he thought to himself. He looked back from whence he came, and he couldn't quite make out Stag's Rest from the horizon except for a small sliver that he understood was the highest part of the walls. The horse under him whinnied, stamped its feet, and stood restlessly. It had only been a short time ago that Guinand had set out on the Queen's task. She had told Guinand to look good, find the horsemen, and extend some invitation.

Guinand had exceeded one of the requirements. He (regretfully) had to change from his usual attire into chainmail with a grey tabbard over it. He was sure he saw a blood-stain on it too. He got nicer leather gloves, boots, more arrows, his own bow, and he even brought an arming sword on the right side of his belt. He picked up a kettlehat, and to his standards, he looked quite splendid. Almost knightly, if it wasn't for the way he slouched on his horse. Guinand admittedly didn't know how to sit properly on a horse, and as such looked more like a sack of potatoes than an actual shining knight. It didn't help he hadn't really figured out where he was headed. When he left Stag's Rest, he'd forgotten to even so much as ask the captain, or Gnarl where he'd even seen the horsemen riding. But Guinand wasn't particularly interested in appearing in front of Gnarl, so he wandered aimlessly into the distance. Somewhat looking for some tracks, and secretly hoping he'd find none.

So that was how he had spent his first few hours. Cantering slowly to and fro, feeling burdened and bothered by chainmail. It felt like it was weighing his skin right off him. But Guinand still looked; he might as well give a good show of trying to track the scouts. He did find the tracks an odd distance from Stag's Rest, and he decided to press on and see where they led. Maybe they'd feed him, he hoped. Or they might kill him, his own mind retorted. Nevertheless he still pressed on, wishing he'd been having an equally dull time in the village with the others, but at least walking. Guinand wasn't very fond of his horse. The horse didn't hold a high opinion of him either, but was presumably glad to leave the stables for a walk.

As the hours continued to wear on, Guinand suddenly realized that he'd been going in very strange directions. The tracks he followed zig-zagged, doubled over, and headed in strange directions. Curious, he thought, it's almost as though these people wanted to be lost. Now, in the present moment, Guinand was enjoying the silence for a moment. It was a welcome sanctuary from the bustle of Iron Company. He wondered what the other members were up to. Guinand hadn't really met any others, and the one he did meet wasn't very nice. Guinand halted his horse. He wasn't sure whether he should go beyond the view of Stag's Rest. He wasn't any good at combat, let alone mounted. If he got into any difficult situation he'd surely get run through.

As he came up to a forest, Guinand dismounted his ride, and tied it to a low lying branch. He took out his bow from his back. He aimed at a tree, took some steps back, and began to fire. The stress of the chainmail almost faded from his mind and he pulled back, and let loose arrows with familiar confidence. Guinand smiled. He liked this. After emptying most of his quiver, he went to retrieve his arrows. Not one had missed the tree, though some were more astray than he'd like. As he plucked each out carefully he wondered if he should return then. He wasn't sure. He mulled the decision as he once again took aim. By the time he was finished his arms were sore from having plucked the arrows multiple times, and still he wasn't sure if he'd return yet. As he thought, he heard the horse give out a startled snort. Guinand began to turn his head to see before he felt something hard hit his head. He felt sudden darkness overtake his senses as he seemed to plunge into unconsciousness.

Then... Nothing...

Atl glanced at Half-mane as she took a hold the trophy, and said something about hiding it, and spoke of the weakness of the villagers. Atl glanced around, as he saw many in tears, crying at the war. Atl, knew this was correct. They were weak. Atl had to fix that. Atl quickly yelled out as he drew the attention of the villagers. "Woman! ... First, good work in get other tribesmen. Second! REBUILD. ATL, REBUILD TRIBE. STRONGER." That is when he realized many people were looking at him nervousily, because he did have a human hand around his neck.

Atl quickly placed it on the ground. "No look hand. Listen." He glanced at the woman he saved earlier, "Y-yes! We should give him a shot, I mean, he even took the time to save me." The consensus was growing, that, it'd probably be a good idea to listen to Atl. "OKAY. WE WORK."

---

Tyne's Hall

---

"A Savage." Said a man who was clutching a bleeding arm, "T-this can't be." he said, still completely and utterly baffled that he wasn't being murdered horribly right now, and that one of the regular looking folks wasn't staying back, but the stark-naked savage. He was with a group of fellow injured, thirty to fifty possibly who were being tended by a few Mid-wifes. Some were in the Inn, which, was not in too good shape, what with a large part roof collapsing earlier, oh and the fire. But it by a miracle, maintained its structural integrity, and was now being used as a set-up for the Medicine-Men, as Atl put it. More specifically, "Large and strange hut. Put hurt tribesmen there. Medicine-men work there." Ever since the others headed off to give the message to the Chieftain, Atl took up a role in gathering the other tribesman, and found himself engaged with other members of the tribe in helping set things straight. He had much work to do, before teaching them how to properly fight, as, Atl quickly learned, they never had much experience in conflict. This tribe appeared to solely grow food, which was a worrying thought to Atl.

At the moment, Atl was paroling the village, as Slayer rode upon the horse that was slowly following Atl. He focused upon some of the tribesmen, both men and woman, mostly young ones, either just exiting childhood or still firmly in it, were prying off the armor pieces and collecting weapons. Atl gave a nod, "Work good. Bring to Metal-Seer." the villagers gave nod and confirmed the idea Atl assigned. Another footman was stripped of his armoring, as two male villagers quickly came up and hoisted the body up and around their shoulders. Atl glanced at them, "Body-takers, keep taking stripped bodies." They gave a quick nod and the one on the left responded, "Cannae leave'm rottan 'ere." They began heading out to the edge of the village, to dispose of the bodies.

He strolled out towards an edge, where many horses laid dead. He watched as other villagers were cutting away at the skin of the beast, others made it to flesh and were working on stripping them to the bone. "Once all fur got, which not use for cook. We tan. Meat, take back quickly. Keep bone, many use." He said, as various men and women were carrying assorted amounts of horse-meat strips, back to the center of the village, where Atl had helped make sure they created little cooking huts of the horse fur. One of the tribesman, a 'cobbler' had used their needle and thread to help create them, while the others used the gathered parts to start the fire, and create a working framework. The tribesmen, who brought the meat, quickly placed it upon the frame to let it rest and prepare it for a good smoking.

Atl wandered back towards the village center, as he spotted others who were gathering stones, some were bringing it back to the center, as Atl was positive he'd need to show them how to make them into true weapons. Others were placing them upon the ground, staggering them as they were working on constructing a wall. After all, "Good guard sometime best strike. Other time good strike best guard." as Atl said.

"Still much work to do." Atl said, as he glanced up to Slayer. Slayer, looked down upon the steed, keeping a smug appearance that only a cat could do. He returned back to the center of the village, ready to check again upon the progress being made, and to consult with the make-shift 'Council' which was made, to help move the reconstruction as quickly as possible.

Astrid

Astrid was panting hard looking around her at the dead bodies that littered the ground. Green shields, broken spears, arrows, all laying across the ground in pools of blood. Sheathing her sword she walked up to a sword that had been stabbed into the ground near Wren. Yanking it out of the ground angrily, she wondered what stupidity in herself had caused her to think she could or even should form some sort of relationship with Wren. Walking to the nearest body she stabbed it in the throat. Letting a moment go by to see if it was dead, she yanked it out and moved on to the next one. She should have just let Wren fend for herself. Independancy. That was the goal here. No strings attached, no bonds. Crunch. Another neck crushed by the end of the spear. This time with a scream. It didn't last long. She gazed into the eyes of the dying soldier with blank uncaring eyes.

As soon as Astrid had checked that every body was dead she followed the others to the stables, all the while grumbling to herself. She had killed her horse and somehow still ended up riding back to the castle. She would have much preferred to just walk home. Once again she grabbed the closest one to the door and rode out without waiting for anyone else. Before she had left the town she stopped before Atl. Jumping off the horse before him, she stood there for a second staring at him before reaching out and grabbing the "trophy" around his neck. She looked at it momentarily before stating, "You might want to hide this, the villagers aren't as strong as you and me." Turning away without waiting for a reply she hopped back on her horse and rode off.

---

With the castle in sight she strayed from the rest over to the left. Without a word to the gang she rode right into the woods to a stream that she remembered being nearby. Blood was caked on her face... and arms... and legs... pretty much every part of her had drying blood and it was unlikely the queen would feel the need to have a bath drawn for them. Tying the horse to a tree, she quickly stripped of her light armor and slipped into the water. It was cold, letting her known of the approaching winter, but not cold enough to prevent her from entering. Sighing she drifted to the bottom of the stream and let the water run over her. Slowly, like erosion, the hardened blood flowed off of her. Looking down the stream she could see the water turn slightly red with run off from her body.

The ride back to Stag's Rest had been uneventful, with Joachim making further observations about the implications their battle had in the grand scheme of things. From what he had gathered back at the village it seemed like one of the Queen's new neighbors had got it into his head to raid her lands, possibly to test her strength or resolve. Such a thing was not uncommon back in Ustynia where Tribes were known to wage blood wars against one another for decades at a time for nearly any perceived infractions, More often than not though Tribes fought to claim good hunting grounds so that their people could survive the day to day life of that frozen kingdom. To Sikarthis it seemed as if these Southern 'lords' were more interested in lining their own pockets than claiming land for their people, greed motivating their every action.

When they finally arrived at Stag's Rest Sikarthis was more than ready to dismount and hand his horse to one of the stable hands. In an odd stroke of luck, the horse he had ridden into battle had been found wandering not far from the village, the bundles of javelins he had left attached to the saddle still swinging from their harness. The beast still smelled terribly but Sikarthis supposed it was due a small bit of respect for not bolting into the wilderness with his forgotten luggage in tow. He was mildly surprised when Joachim motioned for him to follow. Despite serving with the Company for two Winters the Northman was not considered by most in the company to be trustworthy, both his foreign heritage and noncompliance to engage in most conversations earning him the general disdain of a large number of his sellsword companions. Still, it would be cooler indoors and Sikarthis could already feel the heat assaulting his senses. He followed without comment.

---

The Queen's Chambers

---

Gnarl had reacted about as well as Sikarthis had expected to the news of the attack. Apparently not even he had expected to be raided so quickly after settling in at their new home. From there it had been a quick walk to the Queen's chambers to inform the queen and, at Gnarls command, offer their own opinions on a course of action. Whereas Gnarl has addressed the Queen as if she was any member of the Company, Joachim had gone for a more tame, respectful approach, supporting Gnarl's decision as Sikarthis had expected he would. There were several parts of that plan that the Northman didn't quite like, as both the Queen and his companions were about to find out. Before he could speak his part however Rand suddenly burst into the chambers, tossing in a prisoner from the battle. When the ex-knight suggested attempt to hold their current position AND treat their prisoner like some honored guest the icy foreigner did nothing to hide the bark of contemptuous laughter that spilled from his mouth.

"You interrupt us unbidden with a plan that amounts to hiding behind our walls and hoping these enemies of ours believe the lies of a single soldier?" The Northman's accent was easily noticeable, each word spoken with sarcasm and disdain clinging to it. "Were we in Ustynian court, you would find yourself stripped of more than your old title 'ser'. Your skin, for starters."

Sikarthis turned to the Queen, who he had largely ignored since coming to her chambers. In truth it was his first time seeing her this close, having always chosen to tend to his Snowcats instead when given the option to watch her ride by as most of the Company was prone to do. She was attractive he supposed, though she lacked the wide hips, muscled body and combat prowess that appealed to him as a Ustynian. From what he had heard she had never fought in any battles either, further lowering her in his eyes. In his country she might have lasted half a Winter at most, and even then she would scarcely have been worthy of cleaning the floors of a Tribal Icelord's hall. But this, he reminded himself inwardly, is not Ustynia,

" 'Ser' Rand would lead you to ruin. Trusting in the goodwill of a man who was your enemy but an hour ago is the height of madness, even more so to expect this 'Lord Eowen' to believe any lies should the man do as he says he will. What is to stop him from taking your feast and your whores and telling his master that we are fools who cannot see the mamestrun right in front of our face? Nothing." It did not occur to Sikarthis that those in his company would not know what a mamestrun, those immense wooly beasts that stalked the ice plains in herds, was. He likely wouldn't have cared if he had, caught up in his speech. All this talk of tactics was bringing him back to another time not so long ago, in a place far colder, when he was fighting for a different crown. He gestured to the pair of companions who hadn't barged in like savage Tribesmen. "Joachim and Gnarl are only partially correct I believe. I know little of your kingdom nor it's people and, truth be told, I care little of either to begin with. What I do know however is that we are too few to wage a siege, even a short one. How many men does your enemy have at this very moment? Where is he weakest? Who are his enemies? Where does his hall reside? All of these things you must know. If you do not know them, you must find out."

Never taking his eyes off the Queen, Sikarthis laid his full helm atop a small desk that stood between them. He had had no time to remove his armour before coming to her chambers and had until now kept his helm tucked beneath one arm. He made a small show of playing with the crown atop the ancient piece of headgear, his gauntlet encased fingers running over the Ustynian runes and symbols that ran around it's surface. "I believe there is a saying you Southerners have. 'A man atop a wall is worth six men below it.' Well in Ustynia we have a different saying, 'Winter's winds break even stone.' If you want this lord you must go through whatever walls he undoubtedly has around him. Sabotage his walls and our task will be all the easier, though I dare say our numbers are still against us."

Snatching up his helm again Sikarthis made to leave, stopping once in the doorway to offer one last piece of advice. "There is another saying in Ustynia: 'A king wins no crowns from his chamberpot.' It's time you got off the chamberpot, Southerner Queen." With that, the Northman took his leave.

---

The Pens

---

Several minutes later Sikarthis managed to find his way out of the mazelike hallways of the keep and over to where he kept his Snowcats in their pens. He had intended to strip off his armour and clothes once he tended to the beasts, the smell of sweat and blood clinging about him so strong it nearly stung his nose. When he arrived however he was surprised to find that his 'cats had a visitor, one he had often seen eying them from a distance. He stopped to observe her, seating himself on one of a dozen crates littering the area around the Pens. For a time curiosity kept him from interrupting, amusement rearing its ugly head as well. It wasn't until she began to reach her hand towards one of the 'cats that he spoke up.

"You will be missing your fingers if you continue to do that I fear." There was no anger in his voice when he spoke. "What are you doing here, Wren?"

Wren rode back to Stag’s Rest, lagging behind the others a bit on purpose. She didn’t really like being the center of attention anyway, so she just chose to put herself on the outside until they returned. She could still hear Joachim’s question when he spoke though, and scoffed a bit. ”It wouldn’t surprise me if she was a coward,” she mumbled, looking lazy as her horse trotted at a leisurely pace, allowing her to sway side to side, her gaze off to the side and into the distance and hardly an emotion bestowed. She knew an attack back would make the most sense, but she kept her mouth shut. The question was to be determined by their ‘boss’ she supposed. And she was sure Gnarl would handle all that. He was the bear after all. Her eyes narrowed slightly at the thought, but that was the only change in her appearance coming into the stables.

After putting her horse away, Wren changed out of her light armor and wore a pair of brown breeches that fit at the waist, but sagged about her feet. Her shirt was a dull rough material, baggy on her as well and causing her to pull it back up on one shoulder every now and again. She ran her fingers through her sticky, sweaty blonde hair, and went to one of the servants, requesting someone to stitch up her wound. She began searching around until she found the mess hall, and got herself some ale. She sat down and waited, until a meek little guy peeked around the corner and saw her sitting there. ”Yes, I’m the one who needs you,” Wren said, pointing to her arm. The man nodded and sat next to her, working on closing up the wound. She barely noticed, mind on other things, until she looked over and he had gone. She looked down at her arm and it was stitched, so she shrugged and stopped drinking.

Getting up from the ground, she had decided to go visit Sikarthis’s animals. When she was alone with them, she actually felt she could talk more freely than with people anymore. And Sikarthis never seemed to mind when she just turned up there. So she began wandering towards the pens, running her fingers over the outside of them until she got to one of the snow cats. She smiled at it, cooing to beckon it towards her. It just looked at her bored like, which made her chuckle. ”Oh come on you lazy beast, don’t you like me? I mean, I’m injured here. You should be nice to me,” she smirked, eyes lighting up with her smile. The cat yawned, before settling back down, burying its face into itself. ”Tsk. Well, fine then, be that way,” she said softly, still smirking at the thing, before moving to reach a finger in to beckon it better, when a voice made her jump slightly. She turned, blushing and smile fading to an embarrassed gaze that landed on Sikarthis. She felt rather stupid that she hadn’t even heard him walk up.

One hand moved to her side and the other brushed her hair from her face. ”I… I just like your animals,” she sighed, looking to the side, knowing he would think she was probably stupid for it. It seemed like something a child would say after all. Her gaze went back to the man and she shrugged. ”I’m sorry if I’ve invaded your space though, and can leave,” she said, a little uncomfortable now. Seeing as how it was in her nature to like people and be friendly, she found it was easier to avoid them all together in order to prevent herself from caring for them. The more one got to know others, the harder it would be when they inevitably died after all.

Some time had passed before Talan noticed the his guards had gotten too comfortable. They even went so far as to lean against the bars of the cell door. He eased slowly and carefully towards them but stopped dead in his tracks once they started talking again. "Heh you heard what happened to Bran on the trip back from Rannos?", the other guard gave a look of affirmation before answering, "Yeah I heard the savages tried to escape, Bran ended up whippin one till he had em screamin like he was mad, had ol'Bran scared out his mind...in fact I think the one in here be the same one", this was it. The opportunity Talan had been waiting for, he bolted for the door and stuck his hand between the bars holding the one of the guards by his neck. He raised his shiv to the man's throat before yelling, "Open the door! NOW!" the guardsman struggled to retrieve the keys from his belt as he shook horribly grasping for the keys only to miss and try again. "You're friend is running out of time! Hurry up!", Talan yelled as he pressed the shiv against his hostages neck putting enough pressure to cause pain but not enough to break flesh. 

The guard finally managed to get a hold of his keys after a few seconds of fumbling around. He turned the key in the lock and the second the cell door was unlocked Talan slit his hostages throat and charged through the door. His surviving guard began running down the hall towards the door only to trip and find himself begging on the floor. "MERCY! MERC-", his pleas were silenced as the Kahldari stuck the shiv in the side of his neck behind the esophagus and pulled, ripping out his throat. I'm free, now to kill this Bran and be on my way, he thought as he moved towards the door. He carefully opened the door and was greeted by of the slavers from the ship he was brought on, each weilding a sword and shield. Backs turned to him they were unaware of his presence at the moment and Talan used the few seconds he had to examine his surroundings. If I can get to those stables over there I will be free, first he had to get past these three. His shiv was no longer useful, he needed a real weapon...and they had three.

 Sneaking up behind the nearest one Talan stabbed him in the throat and took his sword, just in time too as the other slavers noticed and were about to strike. The slaver swung down his sword to slay the crouched Kahldari but was a moment to late as Talan had already pulled their dead comrade's sword from its sheath and used it to block the incoming attack. In response Talan performed a leg sweep causing the closest slaver to fall to his death as Talan's blade caught him as he fell. The last of them didn't even try to fight, instead he began to run and it was then that Talan knew who it was. Bran, the man who whipped him like an animal was now at his mercy. He quickly ran over to the stables, mounted a horse and chased after Bran. It didn't take long for him to catch up and as Talan came up behind him he swung his blade cleaving the top half of Bran's head clean off.

Riding past the now dead Bran Talan looked back to see blood gushing out of the skull of the slaver's corpse. A grin began to form as he rode out of the port town and into the wilderness. The ordeal was not over for two more slavers on horseback came riding after him, he waited for them to get as close as possible while being out of striking distance of their swords. He flung his shiv as hard as he could and it struck the raider on his left in the arm and either by luck or skill managed to hit the gap in his armor between his shoulder and horse casuign him to fall of his horse. His remaining pursuer came up behind him on his right, Talan expected this and raised his sword to the slavers head level. Stopping his horse suddenly the slaver couldn't react in time and was only able to let out a yelp as he rode into Talan's blade, his mouth open received the blade slicing it wide open and severing his lower jaw from his skull. 

One last matter of business was left before he could move on however. Turning his horse around he rode over to the slaver who he managed to knock off their horse. The man lay on the ground with blood beginning to pool on the ground at his shoulder. From the looks of it his spine was broken, paralyzed and useless like a maimed animal. The irony of it all is that this was Talan once. "Mercy, sir, mercy! I'm just following orders!", the slaver yelled. "Go. Tell them what happened, tell them if they continue to hunt me..", he looked over to where the other slaver lay dead without a mouth "need I say more?" The wounded slaver simply nodded as Talan walked away, "Wait! I can't walk!" 

He didn't look back as his horse trotted away all he said was, "But you can crawl, so you get started before dark" 

Arriving at his destination Talan looked at the aftermath of the battle which he heard of. Homes destroyed, bodies lay in the streets as those who survived searched for their loved ones or attempted to rebuild what was lost. Even in this state Talan envied them for at least they had something to rebuild. He has nothing and as far as he could see he will have nothing for some time. Among the people was one who looked to be from lands elsewhere, he was definitely not Kahldari from what he could tell but not kin to these people. Stranger still he was assisting them in their repairs. Riding up to him Talan asked, "You, outlander. What do you know of this Queen's Guard? Where will I find them?" He was in no mood to make friendly conversation, he needed a ship home and that was exactly what he was going to get.

 

"Well Rand, having a spy is a good idea. In fact, your idea would work under much better circumstances. But as I understand it, your lot went out and killed a number of Lord Eowen's men. Even if he sent in a false report, he couldn't account for those missing bodies that just happened to disappear on a raid on my villagers. That's all the reason he needs to launch an attack." she explained to the mercenary, leaning back.
"Now, I understand that it may seem like a good idea to launch a counterattack, but Rand is actually correct. We lack the manpower to enact a siege. You have no sappers, no smiths, no men to move supplies. You didn't mention the state of my villagers and that itself is telling of their fate. Even skirmishes would be tricky. But...."

The queen sat in silence, thinking for a short minute.

"The men were likely expected to return later tonight. After this they'll rally their forces. This will take two.... maybe three days, as the country hasn't warred in about fifteen years. And another day to march. This leaves us with about five days, at the most. And then..." she smiled, softly.
"They'll try and take my castle. And that's right were I want them."

She leaned forward, and explained.
"When they launch the siege, they'll set up an encampment outside our walls, and attempt to starve us out. Maybe they'll pass an occasional raid team through our walls, but considering my situation, it's unlikely they'll put in a serious effort beyond sitting there with a spear and a mug, watching for our larders to run dry. This is good; there's still a fair amount of food- not as much as I'd like after your soiree, but still a fair amount."
"Now, we know we can defend a siege. But, we're far enough out that to the south and southwest there are a handful of lords who remained neutral during the coup. This plan is in two parts." she explained, raising two fingers.

"First, the defensive team will spend our five days preparing for the siege. We'll gather as much food, arms, and arrows in the keep as possible; we'll clear the trees outside to create a larger field of vision, as well. A hundred men is more than enough to defend this keep. We need to keep their army out in the open. That means all we have to do is keep our walls secure for a short while. Now, the second part..." she stood up, and walked over to Rand.
"Rand, out of all the mercenaries, your words and eyes strike me as... you're the most virtuous, aren't you? The most noble? I admire this in a soldier, and I need someone who can find genuine words to sway someone's heart. I need you to take one man- any you desire, and ride South, to those unaligned lords, and ask for help. Promise them land- Eowen's land, if we win. Let them know I can get them more if they stay at my side. If an army circles around and launches a surprise attack, they'd be caught between our future allies' spears and the arrows from atop our walls. Like cornering a deer." she said aloud.

"Here are your orders: Prepare our defenses, because your lives depend on it. Rand and his partner shall ride out immediately." she called to the men, her face solemn.

"And Rand," she added.
"Our lives depend on your being successful. Should you succeed, I shall grant you a fair reward: knighthood. Proper knighthood, granted by the rightful queen of Arlon. Now ride."

Gnarl looked at Rand angrily for interrupting without even giving the door as much as a knock, thinking to himself of measures to discipline this young, reckless 'knight' through. „My lady, your orders are orders truly, but you are placing all our faith in Rand succeeding in his mission. If he were to fail, well.. we'd be trapped in this god forsaken maze of walls, with no escape. We'd lose our lives if they do not answer your call to arms.”

He looked her straight in the eyes as he spoke the following words, making it perfectly clear what he meant. „Besides that.. you seem to be forgetting that you are no longer queen. You're appealing to the men that didn't step in to stop your brother to step in this time. King Godwin might even interfere. And I estimate that he won't interfere in your favor. That aside what's stopping them from building a few ladders while they wait for your 'future allies' armies' and attempting to enter by force? After all they have an army twice or thrice our size.”

Gnarls face furrowed into an angry look, not hiding what he was thinking very well, but he bowed lightly anyway. His words were spoken with a brutish undertone now, as if he were growling them -- he did not like these orders what so ever. „However your orders are your orders, and I am bound to follow suit. We will begin by sending out a regiment of the castle guard to the village to demand they pay us their last foodstuffs. Whatever is left after the fires is now ours in speculation of the coming attack. Anyone that is able to fight still is to also come with the regiment, to fill the roles of militia and man the walls. Following that the quivers are to be filled, and braziers will be put on the walls at your command my lady.”

Gnarl turned around and walked out the room, indifferent to the offering of knighthood to Rand -- regardless of whether he were a knight or not, he'd be under his command anyway and be a mere equal to the other boars. Fancy titles don't buy bread. Once he got into the courtyard he noticed Wren and Sikarthis standing together at the animal pens, and without even bothering to walk closer he opened his giant mouth. „Wren, Sikarthis, get yer' asses over here and start filling those big woven baskets with arrows, to be put on the walls. After that get some braziers on the walls too.” He spat on the ground, his face still contorted in angriness at the idiotic orders. They were trapping themselves in this god forsaken castle, ready for death, and she knew it. But she gave the orders anyway. „And start praying. I forgot that. Pray to god that you somehow escape this castle when lord Eowen arrives, because he won't spare ye' if he catches you. I know I wouldn't. And order Rand to execute that stupid fuckin' prisoner of his. Dismissed!” he yelled, already heading over to the castle guards' quarters, hailing the captain and his second in command, Varne. He started informing them about the attack that would come soon and then ordered them to go to the village with 8 other guards and bring back all the food and alcohol they could, as well as the men that could fight. He didn't speak a word of the men and women that were unfit for battle, let alone the children -- the queen had made no incentives to help them so they were to be treated like trash and abandoned in face of the warbands that would soon ravage through their lands. If these people were smart, they'd abandon their homes and head for the castle.. perhaps the queen would like some more servants to soil her hallways with dirty feet. The same hallways that would soon be filled with blood.

---

Joachim bowed before lady Isolde, slowly backing from the room before turning around in the doorway as a nobleman would, and quickly walking off following Gnarls' footsteps. When he arrived in the courtyard, things were already put into motion, much to Joachim's dissapointment. He looked around to find out if everyone was there and it seemed that everyone had indeed massed in the courtyard, as Joachim could see Gnarl, Wren and Sikarthis at the animal pens, Theodore barely walking out of the Queens' Guard barracks. But.. Astrid seemed to be missing. Thinking back however, Joachim realized that one set of hooves had ridden down the hill to the lightly forested area to the left of the castle, which was close to the river that ran past Stags' Rest. Deciding that he had nothing to really speak with Sikarthis, nor Wren about, he figured he'd go fetch Astrid and tell her the news.

Walking out the opened portcullis and gates, he immediatly headed right, towards the left side of the castle from the viewpoint of the road. He inspected the sides of the walls, thinking that perhaps they should put wooden stakes at the bottom of the walls. They would somewhat stop people from scaling the walls as easily, though there was no real way to completely avoid that. He brushed his hand against the walls slightly, then let them run along the walls. It occupied his hands while he was thinking about the oncoming siege. If Rand failed.. there was no escape. They'd have to fight their way past, sally forth and ride. Force an exit through the enemy ranks, and flee. And knowing Gnarl.. he was one of the many in the Iron Company that would rather die than flee. Irrational, but fearless. Those words were at the same time incredibly well suited to Gnarl.

His hand disconnected from the wall as he started going downhill into the light forest, beginning to sing, softly at first but louder and louder as he got further from the castle. The song was an old Arlonian song, sang by many a warband as they marched to war, a slight irony in the text usually sung to the sound of wardrums. Truly, the song did have a pretty tune, as the wardrums led it and the flags and banners waved in the air, the warband standing ready before the fight.

A recruiting sergeant came our way,
From an inn near town at the close of day,
He said my Johnny you're a fine young man,
Would you like to march along behind a warband,
With an iron coat and a fine plumed helm,
And a pike at your shoulder,
The coins he took and he kissed the book,
Oh poor Johnny what'll happen to ya?

The recruiting sergeant marched away
From the Inn near town at the break of day,
Johnny came too with half a ring
He was off to be a soldier to go fighting for the King
In a far off war in a far off land
To face the foreign soldier,
But how will you fare when there's arrows in the air,
Oh poor Johnny what'll happen to ya?

Well the sun rose high on a barren white land
Where the thin iron line made a military stand,
There was stones shot, arrows shot, bolts shot too,
Swords and lances thrusting through,
Poor Johnny fell but the day was won
And the King is grateful to ya
But your soldiering's done and they're sending you home,
Oh poor Johnny what'll happen to ya?

They said he was a hero and not to grieve
For the two ruined legs and the empty sleeves,
They took him home and they sat him down
With a military history and a medal from the crown.
But you haven't an arm, you haven't a leg,
The enemy nearly slew ya,
You'll have to go out on the streets to beg,
Oh poor Johnny what'll happen to ya?

A recruiting sergeant came our way,
From an inn near town at the close of day,
He said my Johnny you're a fine young man,
Would you like to march along behind a warband,
With an iron coat and a fine plumed helm,
And a pike at your shoulder,
The coins he took and he kissed the book,
Oh poor Johnny what'll happen to ya?

Perhaps, unintentionally, he did this to warn Astrid of him arriving, but for all he knew she was simply relaxing in the forest, not bathing as she was. Or perhaps she would pay no mind to the song, and be caught in her naked appearance, something that would likely bring shame to the both of them. Regardless, he closed in on the stream, the sound of the water coming closer, ever closer.

Atl glanced around at the Tribe Council, in the center of the village, gathered in the middle around the established cooking huts for the horse-meat, which was being smoked into a good jerky, which he established to smooth out the process. "... Lesson of spear after tribe finish. Metal Seer, supply useful yes?" The Blacksmith, or as Atl referred to him as the Metal Seer was burly man, with thick calloused hands from a life-time at the forge, dressed in a smith's apron and ash stained clothing.

"Aye." The Blacksmith said with a nod, as he tugged at his dark, black, beard. "The footman's weaponry, and armor will be easy to use for our purposes." Atl spoke up again, as Slayer lazily meowed ontop of the horse. "Tribesmen need arms, for war. And of metal men?" The blacksmith paused, "Well it'll take time to smelt down all the iron plating to reforge it, either into new armor pieces, or possibly weapons or shields. Er, did you-" Atl shook head, "Me think on it more." The Blacksmith paused as he spoke up again, "Well, would it be alright if instead of smelting down completely, perhaps I just fix the parts as necessary, and see if we can immediately re-use them? It'd save us time and effort." Atl paused as he gave a nod, "Metal Seer know more of Metal than I. Do what best for tribe."

Atl shot a glance to the Cobber, a thin and wiry man with scraggly brown hair. "Cook still good yes? And what of hut?" The Cobbler gave a shaky nod, "Y-yes. Well, not any of the uh, housing huts, not yet, still need to tan the leathers. After all, there was much horse carnage, and we will have a plentiful stockpile of food from this." Atl gave a nod as he glanced towards the woman he saved earlier.

"You wish to know of the injured right?" Atl gave a simple nod. "W-well they are still in treatment, but we've managed to get a few up, the ones with just wounds should be back to the fields soon. But there were many with broken bones." Atl frowned as he stroked his chin, "Bad. Ba-"

And that is when some other individual riding his own horse strode into the village. Atl glanced back at Talan, "You mean Chieftain?" He inquired, recalling that yes, the Queen was what they referred to the Chieftain as. "Chieftain over hill. West. Past River." He said giving directions, rather unconcerned with the individual in question. "Tell Chieftain of Village." He said, showing some sign of emotion.

Atl paused as he glanced back at the assembled Council. "Now, wall, it need be built. More stone focused there, if metal used for weapon. Though need many stone for spear. Once meat cooked much, gather tribesmen who able fight, here. After eat, Atl need teach."

Rand bowed deeply a slight smile on his face as he bowed. "Yes your majesty, it will be done." He said and dragged his prisoner out of the room. When he was outside the room he was already thinking about who he was going to take with him. First person crossed off his list was Atl, though his honesty was a great trait to have it wouldn't be great for playing the game of Snakes and Foxes that was common among kingdom politics, next crossed off his list was Astrid her temperament would probably ruin negotiations, followed by the old timers while their wisdom would of no doubt be of great help they didn't seem concerned with much, and he went down the list skipping Sikarthis while the Frozen man was a great fighter northern politics didn't really work south. Where up there they were as brunt as the frozen wind it's self. This left Joachim and Wren, it was a tough decision but he figured it out by the time he reached the courtyard, and as a slave interrupted his train of thought. "Sir Gnarl, said you are to execute the prisoner at once." The slave said a slight tinge of fear in his voice as he said it. "Tell Sir Gnarl that I do not kill prisoners or unarmed soldiers, he can do it himself." Rand said flatly no hint of anything in his voice as he left the prisoner in the courtyard with a few others and then sent the slave off.

The bustle inside the courtyards as iron company preparing for the siege to come gave Rand a wake up call. "If I fail, we are all doomed." Rand thought, while that kind of thinking was inevitably going to lead him down a path of failure. He couldn't help but feel it gnawing away at him, almost like he knew right out of the gate he was going to fail. He was no stranger to the dance of politics, this was a mission of utmost importance it wasn't losing some trade route to some noble nor was it losing any honor. If he failed people would lose their lives.

Walking past the stable he began speaking very quickly to a stable boy. "Saddle Stepper and another horse, then have someone pack saddle bags with food, horse blankets, bedrolls and flint and tender and meet us at the front gate with them." He said to the stable boy who only nodded and went about relaying orders and saddling the horses. When he found who he wanted he found her in the animal pens with Sikarthis "Good day to you Sikarthis, and you as well Wren." Rand said and cleared his throat to continue. "The queen asked me to take someone along on a mission of politics, I understand we are now over glorified couriers but I would like you to go with me Wren." Rand stated, he was very flat about it. But he knew Wren was his best choice she could be cool and level headed, and she wouldn't blab and talk to much like Joachim, this made her perfect for a long journey.

Wren spun around as her name was yelled, eyes surprised, and yet other than that showing no expression while Gnarl barked at her and Sikarthis. She frowned deeply at his words, wondering why in the world they were getting arrows, until Gnarl said Lord Eowen was arriving. And they were expected to stay hauled up in the castle until he got there? ”Prisoner?” Wren mumbled, shaking her head. Whatever. She wasn’t a messenger boy. ”Well, seems like our fair lady has made an order dear old bear is not too happy with,” she said quietly, turning to Sikarthis and wondering his take on what they’d just been told. Seemed like the queen didn’t want to fight or continue pressing onward, whatever had happened. In which case, they were glorified castle hands, at least in Wren’s mind.

She sighed and turned to start following Gnarl’s stupid orders when Rand came up. She raised a brow, wondering what he wanted. He didn’t seem nearly as displeased as Gnarl with what was happening. It was… curious. ”Mission of politics?” Wren said, looking like she wanted more information. After a moment, she sighed though and just waved a hand as if to brush off the information. ”Well, have fun prepping the fort, Sikarthis,” she said, not having really spoken with the man before getting interrupted twice. Then again, considering the embarrassing situation he’d walked up on her in, it might have been best.

Looking back to Rand, she pointed towards where their beds were. ”I’ll go get dressed and meet you at the stables then, yeah?” she said, brushing past him without waiting for a yes or no, and going to get her things. She got donned back in her armor, wishing she’d had a moment to go bathe before this little, expedition. But perhaps they would have time along the way anyway. She got her bag and things before walking to the stables, finding Rand’s grand horse and another fit one saddled and ready to go. ”Ah, ahead of the game, is he?” she mumbled, grabbing the reins of the caramel colored steed and climbing on.

"Talan, rem ti miasa?! Za set nami'ata kahlan! Ti nossar fin'tuur!(Talan are you mad?! He is our leader! You cannot do this!)" Kiata begged her love but to no avail.

"Guara nam(watch me)", he replied without another word as he started for the tent exit.

"Ni ar'sar errvas? Losat pal nami'ata kahn? Ti jorah athana kavi ti oros famal ehlgar!(Am I not enough? What of our child? You have everything but you still hunger for power)", this stopped Talan. A brief moment of silence came over the tent before Talan spoke again.

"Ar shova tenam nami'ata kahn virtamin harim pal Kahlan tul harim pal sheriit(I would rather our child be born son the son of the clan leader than the son of a clan member)", Talan did not wait for a reply. He left the tent immediately for the Kahlan's tent. Kiata only whispered to her self, "Dirtha, sheretti...minnos fin'tuur(Come back, my love...don't do this)" Little did this know Talan heard this and thought about it for a moment before continuing on his path...things would be different had he stayed. 

Returning to the present Talan snapped out of his daydream to see the castle in the distance. He had been riding for quite some time, he had passed the Tyne River not so long ago and was approaching the entrance to the castle. The dream of returning home seemed more and more of a reality as he slowed down at the entrance only to find the portcullis opened. Strange, after an attack like that you'd think they'd lock themselves in and prepare for another attack. This was of no concern to him however as his only thoughts were of getting home. He signaled his horse to enter the castle and he found himself face to face with Rand and Wren. "Are you the Queen's Guard? I demand to see the Queen!", he demanded as he rested his hand on the handle of his sword. If they weren't the ones he was looking for he guessed he wasn't welcome here and would have to fight he way out if needed.

With a curt nod Theo left the Bear's quarters. The noon sun was beaming down through the overcast sky, it seemed like a good a time as any to get something to eat. As he walked across the courtyard he noticed the scouting party coming in, Theo was somewhat preoccupied with other things in his mind to do a proper head count, but it hadn't escaped his notice that there were fewer of them coming in then had initially left. He made a quick mental note to ask a report when they were done with Gnarl.

The barracks were always bustling with some sort of activity. Slaves, hands, Queen's guard and castle guard all seemed to mix here. Theodore found himself a quiet corner to sit down and enjoy his chunks of bread and cheese. As much as he tried though he couldn't help but over hear some of the conversations going on. The one was talking about scouts missing, another talked about prisoners. There was even talk of a siege. Only half the bread eaten and the cheese barely touched Theo had heard enough, he started to suspect someone was keeping out of the loop. He knew many in the company thought of him as old, but that didn't mean he was either blind or stupid. A silence seemed to fall over the hall as he got up, faces turned in his direction with looks of puzzlement spelled across them. "As you were. Theo half growled, feeling more offended by the way he was being treated then anything else.

Stepping back in the courtyard Theo took in the fresh sounds of smells of the courtyard. He took a few minutes to look around in the hopes to locate the scouting party. He was just in time to catch a glimpse of Joachim leaving through the gates. Next he noticed Gnarl marching in what seemed a hasty pace, but decided he had dealt enough with the Bear for one day. Theodore didn't have a good enough view on the pens to see wether or not Sikarthis would be there. Neither could he spot Atl nor Astrid, this was worrying him somewhat thinking back that there had been fewer on the return trip. It was then that he spotted Wren and Rand. Where they going out again this soon? Taking a short sprint he quickly bridged the distance from the barracks to the stables. "Oye, what happened?" Theo quickly referred to this morning's journey. And where in the blazes are you off to now? Can't an old boar get some information anymore? Theo's tone had turned in a more light tone, it wasn't his intention to rain down on the pair. Wasn't Astrid out with you this morning? Concern showing through his eyes, even though his face was kept straight.

Astrid

Astrid was laying on her back floating in the water. Flakes of dried blood slowly peeled themselves off of her skin and drifted down the river. As she was, her ears lay below the surface, blocking out most sound. It was peaceful for her in this position. Even here the birds and the sounds of the forest faded away until all that was left was the constant flowing, rushing of the water moving past her. She expected the peace wouldn't last very long. Sooner or later someone would come looking for her, wondering where she had wondered off to. Not that she cared too much what the other people thought.

A sudden movement in the trees caused her eyes to shoot open from their acute position. They snapped to the position in the woods where she thought she saw movement and realized that Joachim was standing there. Flying up onto her feet as fast as she could she spat out, "Shit Joachim!" She attempted to cover herself up, but it was much too late to take away what he had already seen. Unfortunately her clothes where on the side of the river that he was standing on, so she had to move closer to him to dress herself. Realizing that he could probably still see her naked form she swore at him again. "Fuck. Look away, look away!"

On land she half hid herself behind a tree, while quickly throwing on her clothes. "Thousand bloody arrows, don't you say anything before you walk up on a woman trying to wash blood out of her hair." After her rude awakening from her peaceful bath, her hair was splattered all across the right side of her face. Still looking at him untrusting she raised a hand to brush it out of her eyes.