A coastal city, tall and proud, danced against the waves of the surf below. Huge white walls covered a keep more than a thousand years old. Its thick stone weathered and aged, edges chipped and rough as if sandstone. Great towers soured from above with large windows, each filled with tinted glass. Inside this halls were the reflection of dozens of dancing lights. One structure stood out in particular. A huge dome, larger than any temple or home in the city. Above the King's Throne sat a wide and dense glass, filled with hundreds of shards of glass, each tempered into different colours, shining a glow down onto the man. The rest of the city shared only the white walls, brightly glaring as an morning sun rose high enough to say goodbye to the dawn and begin to welcome the dusk. The streets were crowded. Whether the city was flooded with its inhabitants or the beggars it had created it could not be certain. Yet its walls beamed with life, screaming, shouting, laughter and crying. The people of Eleusis were alive with whatever their lives were currently entailing, be it love or fear. They'd survived sieges and raging naval assaults. They'd even survived the Red Fever that had traveled over the oceans through traders and vendors from the East. Eleusis stood strong and many believed it always wood. The same family had ruled over their kingdom for longer than any man could remember, they always would. Inside the keep walls a world of politics and secrets raged. Men spoke truths to one face and lies to another, each weighing in their neighbor's loyalty and true alligence. Inside the walls lied maids and ladies, lords and advisers, knights and scholars. Some had the King's trust, others were there simply as a proof of the King's domination over the country; far too many times had those further from the capital pulled from under his family's reign. Slowly however, their leaders had been crushed and their nobles been paid. It was a dirty game being king. Yet in one room, not far from the great domed hall where their king sat on his great arse, calling shots over the entire population, eating and drinking his way into an early grave, a man stood. Two great eyes beamed out over the ocean, staring ahead as if lusting for something so deeply it burned his very soul. Lord Illyn Grey was a man of great wealth, a rumour spoke of it being vastly greater than the King's. He was a powerful man with a keen interest in what was possibly more dangerous than he'd like to expect. He moved at the sound a rattle on his door. A small girl, no older than fifteen hurried to the door, pulling it open in the Lord's request. Illyn stood tall with his shoulders back, his entire presence an air of intimidation. It wasn't by strength, but by power. Aside from the King himself, there was no more powerful man on their entire island. He was feared by a great number within the higher nobles and by far more who worked in his name. As the door pulled open, the girl stepped back to give the man leave to entire the room. He was slender with eyes that shone with a strange sharpness. "Ser Daeron." Illyn spoke his hands busy pouring himself a solid gold chalice of wine. "Nymerian, like yourself." He added, lifting the cup to his lips. The knight merely nodded his head in respect. "I find the eastern wines to be sweeter than those pulled from vines in the south. What is it your people do?" He asked, his eyes never leaving the knight. They were a cold blue compared to the brown of the younger man. Eyes that had seen far too much in their life, lived far too much trouble and far too much anguish. "I'm afraid I do not know, my lord. My family do not own a vineyard." Rhoynar smiled, his hands resting behind his back. His voice was different to the capital accent. It lingered with an almost nasal twist, somewhat exotic yet with too much grace to be a threat. The Nymerian people were often famed for their deceptive voices, often being told to have sired from witches and harpies with soft voices to lure when into fatal traps. "I hear it is a sweet sugar that varies from vine to vine." He added. His eyes twisted about the room slowly, taking in the wealth of the man who seemed to have been staying in the capital far longer than anyone had expected.

Out in the hallway soft footfalls echoed from the stone walls, announcing the arrival of a third party. Weather scarred boots halted in front of the wooden door through which the muffled sound of two male voices could be heard. One of them seemed to be foreign to the capital, judging by the melody in his voice. Although the words spoken didn't carry beyond the room the voices could be identified. Surely one of them would be the lord Illyn Grey who had called upon the fire-guild for a fighter to protect his merchandise. The guild was known for accommodating blacksmiths, jewellers and warriors throughout the country. There were rumours about the latter possessing the ability to conjure fire – a gift granted to the bravest by the goddess Ardebit, patron of the guild. It wasn't uncommon for the higher folk to hire from the guild. For the special nature of this mission the community had chosen the former apprentice of the famous Shirtal. He had made a name for himself by battling alongside the king almost a decade ago. Now it was the turn of the next generation to prove their worth and loyalty. This particular warrior had ridden all the way from the village of Raki to the capital in half a day – the short notice preventing an earlier arrival. A knock sounded as the fighter rapped upon the door. The maid hurried to open it and beyond the wood a woman came into sight. She was a slender female with cool features yet warm steel coloured eyes. She was dressed in heavy boots that had seen better days, leather trousers and a leather vest that seemed to be covering a linen blouse. Her cape still hung from her shoulders it's hem dark as if it had been freed of mud just shortly. The other people in the room could get the impression that she had just sprang off her horse: Her cheeks were flushed and a curl of black hair tingled on her cheek. The woman entered the chamber and bowed deeply towards the men. In a clear voice that carried the vowel-emphasizing accent of the northern folk she spoke: “Ilinfer Blacksmith at your service, my lord. I was sent by Briavel, second of the council of Ardebit. He sends me on behalf of the fire-guild.” After she had finished speaking she straightened her back and produced a scroll from under her cape. A attentive viewer could have noticed the sword, that hang from her belt and was visible for just a second as the folds of her cape shifted with her movement. Waiting for further instructions she stood there, scroll in her hands, eyes on the older man who was fairly dressed as she would expect a lord to be.

The old man lifted his cup to his lips, drinking the wine with a confidence that would unnerve some. His eyes stayed put on Rhoynar as the man admired the wealth of the room. The younger knight stopped on a object made a pure gold. It stood atop an old book, covered in writing he had not seen for decades. "It's-" The old man started before his 'friend' continued. "The hand of Elia." Ser Illyn watched him more cautiously as the foreigner edged closer to the artifact, a look of concern visible in his eyes. "I saw drawings of it as a child, once in Meerai." The City of Dreams. "The City of Thieves, yes. I hadn't expected your family to venture over across the desert." Ser Illyn commented. The man held his head high, eyes staring down the black haired knight. "My father took us when he traveled to buy an army." Rhoynar smiled and turned his eyes back to the Lord before him. "He used that army to take the keep at Astipor." "And what a glorious battle that was." "I don't need your approval, my lord. I'm here because you asked me to be. No one knows that desert like my people. You can't expect a soul to cross it without a guide." Rhoynar span at the sound of the door opening once again. The two men waited for only the briefest moment before the face of a young women fell before them both. Rhoynar extended the courtesy and bowed in return, unlike the man behind him. Ser Illyn remained completely stationary, two blue eyes scaling the girl from head to toe. She would do. It wasn't at all as he was expecting but it would have to do. He didn't have time to wait. He waved the girl inside and waved his maid out. The young girl darted out the door as if her life depended on it. "You're here for one reason. You were both told one thousand deniers for the safe return of what I want. If one of you dies, the other does not get their half." His eyes moved to Rhoynar as if judging his family's potential roots. The man would deny this, of course, his family was noble- now. "You will both go to Niska, beyond the Second East and bring back this." The man pulled open a book older than himself and turned the pages to face them. "This crown is worth more than this kingdom and both of your lives. I suspect six months will be enough. I will pay for your ship across the ocean. One hundred deniers should be enough." He produced a small leather pouch and placed it on the table. The coins inside bounced against each other, producing the jingle that all men felt compelled by.

The cold gestures and arrogant eyes of the old man upon her face made her clench her teeth together to prevent herself from barking at him. Except for the brief twitch in her jaw nothing showed from her inner brawl. With a nod she acknowledged the knight who turned out to be her companion for the next six months. The words of the lord sounded very harsh and Ilinfer had to think of the reputation of the guild. She truly didn't understand why this horrible person had to be so harsh. Whatever, the world was harsh, so why shouldn't the people be. The warrior listened carefully as he explained their objective. The pouch hit the tables surface with the typical jingle. Somehow it sounded like screams to Ilinfer. Conscious of what still had to be done she unrolled the scroll in her hands, offering the contract to the lord. It was custom to sign a contract with the guild, just to insure that the person fulfilling the mission would get their money in the end. Of course the lord would know this, had he surely called upon the guild before. The woman then retreated, turned to the knight with a nod and a fleeting smile. Then she took up position next to the door, crossing her arms across her chest and waiting until they would finally embark. She was itching for a fight. Mayhap she would start a small brawl in the next tavern after indulging in some beer or warm mead. With any luck she would be singing and dancing drunk with the crew of some ship . . . that was, if they allowed women on board. Sailors were very peculiar in that way. Hopefully the knight would just take the money and they could be on their way and gone. The fighter didn't mingle well with nobles and didn't understand their world full of intrigues and power. With a sigh that almost didn't register she stroked a curl behind her ear, tucking it in with all the other stray strands of raven black. An earring glinted as it caught the light – a small ring placed at the top of her left ear. A glance would suffice to recognize it as black steel.

Rhoynar glanced over the pages of the book, its bindings weak and it's pages frayed. The entire item produced a think and dusty smell, one that would give any man reason to cough. The Nymerian smiled and picked up the small bag, tossing up in front of him. He bowed his head in the slightest and turned on his heels after the women he'd be sharing the road with. "Six months, Daeron. Six months." Ser Illyn commented. His voice stern and tall, matching his height and stature. In the mind's of the King's council members, he was a threat. The Greys were rich, powerful and to be feared. They were a striking family, each tall and thin, with eyes as blue as a crisp winter morning. It was a family trait they all seemed to share. It wasn't uncommon to share a feature with the rest of the family. The King and his brothers all seemed thickly set and broad shouldered, unlike the Wurms of the West with their thick red hair. The council in the castle feared war. In each of the holds across the Kingdom, the rumour of the Grey army seemed all too true. Yet in the East, things were calm. The people of Nymeria were as calm and as relaxed as they always had been in their holds made from thick stone the colour of the sun. Each made with bricks that glowed against the landscape. Rhoynar wrapped the gold pouch to his belt and walked towards the door. He passed a faint smile to the girl and continued onwards as if they had all the time in the world. The old man shut the door behind them both, closing the secrets of the Grey house off from the rest of the world once more. With a brisk pace, the man set off out into a world that didn't care for politics or lords. Outside in the streets the people cared for homes, food and love. Not the games those inside would play. Of course they were a fantasy for all, but nothing more than simply that. Rhoynar stayed silent whilst they were travelling away from Lord Illyn's room. He didn't need a spy watching him across the Second East. Once he set foot into the gardens that bathed the front of the grand castle, he managed a word or two. "By the looks of things, you could use a rest." He smiled, turning to look at her. "We've a long road ahead of us and I can guarantee the summer will get worse the further East we go."

The knight took the pouch and passed by her with the slightest smile upon his lips. She followed him. A knight and a warrior. A noble and a commoner. This promised to get interesting. Ilinfer followed the man through the hallways draped with carpets, paintings and statues. All the wealth on display could have easily fed the whole capital throughout an entire winter. The blacksmiths daughter couldn't understand the complex world of the higher society. Then again, she didn't have to. It helped her feed her family - she didn't need any other reason for accepting work. The noble was silent the entire time. He just strode on, closely followed by Ilinfer who chose not to start a conversation. Sure enough they reached the gardens and the man found his voice again. The warrior liked the sound of the foreign accent. She had to smile at his words. "We should leave as soon as possible. I don't need rest." And she would really like to know what gave him the impression. The colour had faded from her cheeks, leaving her skin fair. She had ridden farer in a day than today. "There should be ships leaving for the east soon. I should go to the harbour and inquire about our passage." Was he smiling at her? The fighters brow twitched while she commanded it to stay put as she didn't want to cock a brow at a knight - let alone one she would be spending the next six months with. She stepped up beside him. "I am sure we can depart soon?" Her eyes were fixed on a rose as she spoke so quietly only the person next to her could have heard. It was as if she were talking more to herself than to him. She crossed her arms again, revealing the hilt of her sword as the cape parted. The mild air danced through the garden in a slight breeze. Summer hadn't really arrived yet but soon would be. Flowers bloomed in carefully groomed beds and pots, thickening the air with their sweet scents. It was a small Paradise I midst of the city surrounding the thick walls that sheltered the keep.

Rhoynar walked, his strides not much more than a stroll. He had no intention of rushing this journey. The Second East was a week on board a ship, two weeks on board a ship from the Capital. Meerai stood as the first beacon on top of the largest desert anyone had seen. It stretched for days. There cities dotted about, none were formed under one banner. Each city was a kingdom, filled with slaves and would be kings. Many families in the Nymeria were said to have originated from these cities. More often than not these families were not slaves, but simple civilians, others were much, much more. Daeron was a name pulled from the Kalisai word 'Daeronai' which meant 'master'. The now noble house of Daeron had moved West when their city was attacked, leaving them to flee with a small gathering of their belongings with a good number of them dying on the way. Despite it's illegal nature, the family still shifted slaves from inside their new home and into the deserts beyond. "I suppose we can both rest once we're sat down on board a ship." He commented, climbing the five steps out of the gardens. The keep stood above a tall climb of one hundreds steps above the city below, reaching well above the roofs of the houses that covered the streets ahead. "I would recommend we travel east on horseback; the boats are much faster in the east." Rhoynar glanced over at the women he would have by his side for some time. She was pale, clearly not from the south or the east like himself. She'd mentioned something of a guild.. Northern perhaps. The man soon decided it would be amusing to see her reactions to the heat of the deserts beyond. He'd not experienced them himself for some time. "We can buy horses with the money he's already given us. The right kind will get us where we need to be in only days." He added, beginning the long descent down the stairs and into the bustling and less than glamorous streets below.

The Knight continued his stroll and Ilinfer followed slightly irritated. What was it with nobles and strolling conversations? At least he wouldn't be able to run away on the ship. The decent to the street lev l was a long one. For the normally all about business warrior the pace was painstakingly slow. She thought about the months to come and once again was itching for a fight. She felt aggressive. Perhaps a fist brawl with a drunken sailor? Yes, that sounded like just the thing she needed to help her focus on the task ahead. The last months had been difficult. Death had taken its toll on her family and with two people less working to supply those who needed it times had been rough. Not wanting to go any further to that dark and lonely place in her head she turned her face towards the knight whos name was still unknown to her. He was talking about horses and riding east before taking a ship. Ilinfer wasn't as informed as he seemed to be, so she just nodded. "I don't know a lot about ships myself, but I don't mind a long horse ride either. So if you think its best let's do it that way." The grey eyed woman smiled openly at the thought of riding at a neck breaking speed for several days. "I have a horse that was trained for battle and is in good condition. She shouldn't have any problems with long distances." To herself she thought her Epona was the most beautiful and talented horse in the country, but she didn't speak these thoughts out loud - it would be a bit too childish for a grown warrior. As they descended further towards the packed streets Ilinfer started packing hr backpack in her mind, listing everything they would need. First of all they would need supplies such as dried meat and fruit, water . . . "We should get some rations . . . " she fell silent as a lady stepped onto the stairs, coming from a lower level of the garden. Ilinfer bowed her head slightly, not quite sure what was expected of her in this kind of situation. In return the lady glared at her with disgust and marched on, he nose high, not acknowledging the knight. How charming! "As I was saying: I think we should get supplies. When are you planning on leaving? I just want o know if I should look for an accommodation for the night or not. Most taverns will probably be filled already." If she was lucky she would get a small corner to rest for a copper or two. That was not including the meal. That was all she could afford at the moment. Luckily their contracted was willing to pay for the journey.

The knight kept to himself a short moment or two. He simply stayed smiling, taking in her personality and determination from afar. Perhaps it wasn't as amusing to others as it was to himself. Yet her strange ignorance to the world beyond these shores was enough to crack a toothed grin on the man's face. He stayed quiet as they began the journey down into the 'shit that laid below.' A unfamiliar face of almost pearly white skin and shockingly brown eyes appeared before him both. Rhoynar watched her eyes and followed them with a gaze that seemed to melt steel. His family weren't as highly regarded as others due to their origin and illegal nature abroad. With the women gone, however, the knight forced himself to be cheery once again.

"Astipor will provide us with better rations. Besides, the food is cheaper there." He commented. His hands adjusted the leather strap that held his sword in place. It was curved slightly, bending off towards the end. The blade was made of a metal that seemed darker than that of the main lands. It held the same silver colour as all blades yet seemed to shine a darker and deeper silver than most blades. Its hilt was enhanced with no jewels but the tiny images of dragons and men, fire blasting down and arrows raining. Each blade told a story unlike the blades forged by the main land smiths. Rhoynar's blade was not his own, nor had it been the man's who'd given it to him; the true owner had been lost in time. Its passage to Rhoynar had been a gift from a city as his families cartel passed by one summer much before Rhoynar had been born.

"Your horse may die before we reach our destination. The deserts beyond these shores are hotter than you'd believe." He commented, beginning to take the stairs at a jog. It was faster that way. "We'll travel to the ports in the east on horseback. The boats are faster and will let us board for nothing. We could always use this money later." He smiled, letting his hands rest naturally as he descended further down the stairs.

Ilinfer followed the knight, listening closely what he had to say. So they were heading to Astipor. When she wasn't mistaken it lay one and a half days north of the capital. The knight adjusted his belt and Ilinfer thought it to obvious for she immediately noticed the beautiful however strange sword in his holster. This man was a noble through and through – only they could wear these kind of exquisite and delicate swords. Her eyes fell upon her own sword: a traditional northern blade, flattened to fit between two ribs, sharpener at both sides of the blade, a leather piece wrapped around the hilt to give it a better grip. It was a good sword that had served her well until now. But sometimes she did envy the weapons of others that didn't just look prettier but were better balanced and often lighter than her own.

With a sigh she followed as he began to jog, keeping up the pace easily. At his next words she actually gave him a surprised glance. He was planning on taking the horses on board a ship and then through a desert. And he was absolutely right: Epona would probably die on the ship due to seasickness. She would have to leave her beloved horse with a member of the guild here in the capital. The warrior even had a contact, but it would take a while to find the person since she didn't know her way around here.
Another frown darkened the features of the black haired woman as he said they could board for nothing. Did he have that much influence? That was really impressive and Ilinfer decided to watch her back around the man. One could never know what madness came with power. Her swords-master had taught her that. The smile he gave her was returned. “I will have to take care of my horse. I can't just leave her in some stable!” Like every northern warrior she took pride in her horse who was her best companion in battle. Not that she had ever experienced an actual battle, but she had been trained for it and thought herself quite a good swordsman and rider.

A sigh left her lips. “Where are we heading to?” Now she realized she hadn't asked that before. Why not? Had she been so mesmerized by this city? Looking around confirmed this thought. Yes, the surroundings were spectacular! Behind her the high towers of the castle, before her an almost endless staircase leading down into the city, around her levels of gardens with plants she had never before seen. The view onto Eleusis was spectacular and almost took her breath away. It was huge! How ever would she find the person to take care of Epone in this nest of humans rushing to and fro like fish in a tiny pond?

Rhoynar let his prior knowledge of the city guide them through the busy streets and down the fastest route to the exit. They may have been given six months to retrieve an old crown yet there was no garuntee how long it would take to cross the desert. The furthest he'd traveled was to the desert city of Meerai, yet it sat only three days from the largest port city. He didn't know the way himself, but Rhoynar was sure he could easily pay for someone who did know the way; at least he could bargin for one.

His feet carried him along the dirt grey stone of the streets and out into a wider, cleaner street with decorated houses and coloured banners flying high in the sky. Each house seemed to buzz with life and colour spilled from each window and door. The city had always been known simply as the path of Elyssa, the God Queen. The colours changed over the passing months, from dark blues to thick blood reds. Each building stood as each a business or the home of one of the many priests within the city. Behind them stood the very temple they worked in. It shone against the rest of the city, glittering gold on its roof, twinkling in the midday sun. Inside its decorated walls was thousands of intricate paintings of the apparent stories of the Gods. The domed ceiling was a detailed and stunning image of each of the twelve gods and their places in the world. It was a favorite site for the Queen and many of the Lords and Ladies that visited the Capital city. The banners waved against the wind, revealing varying shades of reds and purples. It was another month until Bifall, yet the midsummer solstice was arriving quicker than the temple could prepare for; the summer had been more harsh than before, people wanted crops before the summer ended.

The knight continued through the streets, walking as if he cared for little else in the world. His mind realed with the idea of this crown. He knew someone would know what it was although he was positive he wouldn't find them anywhere in Illium. He knew of scholars in the east but he felt almost cautious of revealing his destination. Soon, he turned his attention back to the girl besides him, finally choosing to speak to her again.
"We're heading for Astipor, the boats will be cheaper there." He passed her a smile once more and continued his brisk pace. "As for your house, unless you wish to share a saddle, I suggest stabling your horse there. Does your Guild have a home there?" He asked, taking in the sights of a bustling religion he cared very little for. He wasn't sure if anyone in Astipor cared for the religion of Illium now, after all, most of its inhabitants were refugees from the free cities.

Wondering about the knight Ilinfer took her horse as they passed by the gates to the crowded city streets. She paid he boy guarding it two copper coins and thanked him with a smile. The bustle caught the warrior off guard. Not being used to the city she was thankful for the horse behind her, protecting her from elbows and shoving as the people made way for the animal. Epona was truly a beauty! Her dark brown fur and black mane shone in the sun. The warrior had a bit of trouble following Rhoynar, but she managed. They entered a part of the city that was lit with colour. Somehow she suddenly felt missplaced. The birghtness of this place blided her somewhat, so she chose to focus on Rhoynar and follow his stepps.

Catching up to him in the less crowded streets she looked up to his eyes when he finaly spoke to him. Ilinfer frowned. He had already told her that they were heading for Astipor. Obviously he wasn't paying attention, or chose not to tell her. Either way she wouldn't ask again. She wans't fond of nobles but she didn't think ill of them either – at least she didn't used to. This specific noble however made her doubt. He had seemed kind at first. Now he seemed preoccupied. His question made her smile. Yes, the fire guild had people in Astipor that would take care of her horse. She could also send word to her family from there and let them know how long she would be gone. Surely they would want to know. The thought of beeing apart from them for so long made her mouth twitch slightly as she swallowed down the unease accomanying that thought. “Yes, we do. I will be able to leave her there.”

The animal snorted and lifted it's head. It's mane got caught by the wind and uncovered a white blaze upon it's forehead. Ilinfer petted Eponas neck. “If you'd preferre I could wait beyond the city gates until you have taken care of your . . . buisness. I shan't be in your way.” The last words were spoken quietly, with a crooked smile and averted eyes that focussed on th horse. The warrior could surely use the time to walk into a pub and calm her frustration with a good fistfight and a cold ale.

Rhoynar turned to Ilinfer and smiled.
"Meet me at the gates at sun set." He commented, his eyes turning to the sun above them. They had a few hours before he would have to meet her before the gates to the city. There were items lingering in his mind and questions he wanted answering, but they wouldn't be answered here. The Second East was the only place he'd get the answered he needed; he was grateful for his family's connections there. He left Ilinfer's side and disappeared through the crowds. Stepping between citizens and traders, merchants and whores, his feet took him along a familiar path and down a long, narrow street filled with closed doors and empty windows. He reached one door and paused. The building had been the only one of the street with even the hint of life inside. The open glass passed a cloud of heavy perfume, incense and sweat through to the rest of the city, the sound of sex echoing throughout the building. Rhoynar stepped in through the door and entered the whore house through its back door.

The girls inside were a mixture of all sorts. Northern girls with pale skin and brown hair. Southern girls with porcelain skin and blonde hair. Then there were the girls who seemed not native at all, sun kissed skin, like his own, and dark black hair with dark eyes and passionate lips. Rhoynar walked through the first room, and stepped into the busiest room. The girls simply lingered, chatting with men who entered and tempting them out of every coin in their purse. They were not Rhoynar's target but a small man with a beard that seemed too charismatic for his own good. He jumped a little when Rhoynar appeared and ushered the girls around him to leave. Ollivar, the owner of this particular house, seemed a little confused by the man's presence.

"What brings you to the capital? You're family never come here." He stammered, guiding Rhoynar into one of the small more private rooms. "I don't mean to offend but any more of these girls and people will start to notice. They don't just migrate here."

"Relax, that's not what I'm here for." The knight smiled, pulling a page from his pocket. "Illyn Grey has asked me to find this." His finger moved over to a crown on the top corner of the page. "I need you to send a message to the someone who will know where I can find this." He added. The image seemed to baffle the shorter man who only seemed to cough and stammer. Rhoynar took the moment to pour them both a cup of wine and found himself a seat. The room was a mixture of rich reds and deep purples, beds covered in silks and satins, most of which were bought from the Second East. The room seemed to smell of jasmine, a strong thick smell that would linger on the clothes and hair on anyone who entered the building. Rhoynar took a sip of his wine and turned his attention back to the task at hand.

"The only place I can suggest would be the monks in Juhad if only to look through their library. I cannot think of anyone who would know." Ollivar commented, taking a gulp of wine himself. "I imagine this to be a lost relic. Did Illyn say why he was looking for it?"

"No, not the real reason. He merely commented on requiring it for the collection. I imagine he's going to amass enough wealth to take the crown. Why else would be searching for artifacts of wealth." The two men made a silent agreement and paused to drink.

"I would rather no King than the Grey's on the throne. I've heard rumours about the King's son being betrothed to wed soon although the name I haven't heard."

"It would explain why Illyn Grey is in the Capital." Rhoynar commented. He pulled the page back into his pocket and finished his wine. "Be careful. You know you have safe passage to Astipor if you need it. Our army is far bigger than any of these Western Lords give credit for."

"Yes but your army is a week away by boat. You're family could be dead within a week." Ollivar commented, placing a hand on Rhoynar's shoulder. "Your family has the pride of many generations on their shoulders. Generations that grew from nothing to one of the most powerful families in both the East and West, but that pride will kill you. Your brother's death was the result of that-"

"My brother was murdered by sell swords." Rhoynar spoke, snapping almost.

"No, your brother was assassinated." Ollivar argued, lowering his voice. "There are enemies out there, dozens of them. If Illyn Grey is actually searching for the throne, your family will need to leave." He checked his eyes towards the door and back to his friend. "There are families in the East that want you dead. Meerai may be your family's second home but you will be less safe there than in battle. Be careful. The further East you go the less power you family holds. Things have changed, Rhoynar, things have changed far quicker than anyone ever expected." The smaller man stepped back and allowed his friend to take his leave.

It was late. He knew that. Rhoynar finished his wine and headed out into the street, aiming for a quick pace towards the gates and a journey home. His feet carried him with a lack of mortality despite the news he'd heard. The streets were emptying now, as most headed home or towards one of the hundreds of inns across the city. The city was a city of sin when the sun fell. He hurried his way towards the gate, thinking only about how long they had before their 'time was up'. They would only try to reach this crown in time, if that was the purpose of his quest. Paranoia told Rhoynar it was a lie. But no kingdom could be overthrown in a month. He reached the gates and pulled his horse from the stable he'd paid for. He climbed into the saddle and waited, looking about for Ilinfer.

Ilinfer nodded towards Rhoynar and smiled weakly. She had thought as much. This secretive man wanted his secrets to stay thus. “Very well. Until sundown.” With a slight bow she took her leave and vanished into the crowd.

The first thing the warrior did was to take her horse to the city gates and leave Epona at a stable she would later have to pay three coppers for. Then she looked around. The guild had a way of letting it's members know where to find help especially when they weren't familiar with the town or city they were in. “Follow your heart and you shall find the way . . . “ she mumbled as she turned to the left and walked along the city walls, eyes trailing the seam where wall and street met. Soon she came upon a stone stairwell that led up to the balustrade of the thick walls. There she also found what she was looking for: Etched into the stone of the first step was a small bird – a firecrest to be exact. It pointed it's beak to the ground, looking at her from hollow eyes. A smile played on Ilinfers lips as she turned to her right and followed the small street. As she came to an alley entrance, she noticed the bird again, pointing her into the shadows. She followed the winding alley until the bird appeared on a door. It sat upon the lower left corner, looking up. The warrior knocked at the door and waited. The alley was dark and smelly and so very empty. A creak brought her attention back to the door. Where an elderly woman peeked through the gap. In a friendly voice Ilinfer spoke: “Greetings! I followed the redhead!” The older woman smiled, the wrinkles around her eyes creasing and showing that she had laughed a lot during her life.

“Welcome!” The shaky voice shocked Ilinfer for a moment. She entered never the less and shut the door behind her. Beckoning the woman sat down at a small table, pulling a cup of water from a shelf. Sitting down with a smile the younger woman drank before introductions were made and she could finally bring forth the reason for her appearance: “ I need someone in Astipor to take care of my horse. And I am in need for new clothing since my mission will lead me east.” Carla. The elder woman, nodded and disappeared to the back of the room. She retrieved a neatly wrapped bundle of dark linen from a trunk. “Many daughters of Ardebit have worn this. Now, try it on.”Obediently the northern woman changes clothes, adjustments were quickly made, a few fighting stances posed as to see how freely she could move in it. She was very satisfied. “Thank you Carla.” She said with a wide smile on her lips. “oh, don't thank me. Thank the guild! They've always taken care of their people.” A twinkle lay in her eyes and Ilinfer had to think of her late mother. She would have been around Carlas age by now – and just as cheerful. With a message for a stable owner in Astipor and her new clothes in her hand Ilinfer left the dear old woman of the guild.

The northern warrior still had some time before she had to meet up with her travel companion. After leaving the clothing in her saddle bags she looked for the closest tavern and found one in plain sight. Perfect! There was enough time to have an ale, a brawl and be on her way right in time. She entered the tavern, ordered the drink and looked around. Her eyes met those of a tall man with dark hair who looked like he could right a hook. It only took two heartbeats for her to go over in search for a fight. And a fight she did find.

In the end Ilinfer left the tavern with the man. They swayed arm in arm, waving their ale. She flinched as she took a sip of the strong brew and it bruned her split and bleeding lip. The man wasn't unharmed either, flashing a bruised eye and broked nose. He was loudly singing shantys the woman laughingly acknowledged. The roaring tune subsided with a “. . . I'm as happy as man as the sea will allow . . .” Ilinfer saluted him with her pitcher and a radiant smile. “So where are you heading off to?” the man asked, not letting go of her shoulders. Ilinfer freed herself from his grasp, emptied her pitcher, giving him the empty vessel. Then she got her horse from the stables and came back to the gates where he still stood waiting for her. So he wouldn't leave that easily, heh? “Back north.” the woman finally answered. “Why dodn't you saty? I could use a woman like you to set me straight from time to time.” Laughing she threw back her black hair, revealing the scarlet marks, where he had choked her during their fight. “You'll have to look elsewhere for a wife, stranger.” The blacksmiths daughter answer, mounting her horse. The sun was soon to set. Good thing she was at the gates. Rhoynar would have to pass her, so she knew she wouldn't be late. “So your married then?” This unexpected question stung and brought a sad smile to her lips. “Aye.” She bent down and gave him a kiss on the cheek. “Thank you.” he would hear her say before she drove Epona to walk. The man looked after her. “If you ever leave your husband, let me know.” He shouted as she had almost left the gates, waving with the empty pitchers before re-entering the tavern.

Ilinfer bent down to pet her horse. It had been so much fun and then he just had to trigger those memories of hers. Emptiness overcoming her made her throat tight and it was hard to breathe. Wiping tear out of her eyes she straightened her back again. The time of mourning had past. She should really get a grip of herself. A few deep breaths later the emotions weren't overwhelming any more and she was back in the present. Touching the wound at her lip she couldn't help but grin. Droplets of blood had left marks on her clothing, the wound itself was clotting up nicely, stilling the bleeding. She turned to see that Rhoynar had arrived and seemed to be waiting for her. How much had he seen? Waving she whistled so he would see her. Hadn't they agreed to meet behind the gates? Well, never mind. Probably a noble like him thought of her as a burden. They honestly thought they could buy everything and everyone. But Loyalty was such a delicate thing . . .

Rhoynar didn't want to admit he was concerned by the words his friend, Ollivar had given him. There wasn't really any possible way to deny his brother's assassination, besides from what his head and heart wanted him to believe. They were a close family: both his parents, his younger brother and younger sister. In this country, they held no alliances, no marriage links, only land and power. It wouldn't keep them alive forever. Maybe Ollivar was truly correct, maybe it was time to head back home. Yet no member of the Daeron household could be seen running with their tail between each knee. If the eastern cities were slowly breaking from the slave trade, their power would eventually run out. It's all their family was..

With a sharp kick to the stomach of his horse, the knight reached Illifer's side. He would have to hide whatever fear he had away. This wasn't any of her concern. None of this was. She had no part in his affairs, regardless, he needed her. One extra pair of arms was better than only his own. If anything did happen, the help would have been greatly appreciated. He had plenty to consider on their ride to Astipor. He would leave her in the city and speak to his family before departing. An army could be moved into the city without notice, although a large army would result in a few birds flying home to their owners. They sat in a dangerous seat, one Rhoynar wasn't too sure they would hold any longer.

"It shouldn't take more than a day to get there." He commented immediately heading out along the grey stone road. The only concern in his mind needed to be whether or not Illifer saw the worry on his face. In his worry, he hadn't even spotted the conversation his companion had held with a drunk.
'Worry consumes you, we are not a family of worry.' He'd heard his grandfather say it dozens of times. He'd been the man to build and complete their empire, to cross the ocean and take Astipor from beneath the sleeping heads of it's owners. The people had at first seemed afraid but as the merchants began to flood across the sea, the city became the hub it was to that very moment. He was a man to look up to, a powerful business man and a true military tactician. A sickness had taken him one winter, shortly after his second brother had been born. Paranoia told Rhoynar it wasn't a illness.. He would have been wrong. Things had seemed to shift after his grandfather's death but only now was it noticeable.

The dark haired man pushed his horse along the stone road, no longer choosing to bare a simple walk. He urged his horse into a slow canter and weaved past an old cart and its owner. He didn't speak to Illifer, he had no reason too. He had to capital, only on visiting did these thoughts come into his head. The open and green landscape outside of the Astipor and its polished ocean, the familiar smell of salt, spices and perfume of the docks and its markets were always a welcome change to the stench of the capital. The sound of gulls and the sounds of a people filled with culture and variety. It stood a world away from the landscape outside the capital. Small villages, heavy poverty and sewage.

Rhoynar slowed to a walk as they drew close to another cart. From his seat, he could see a fat man arguing with a frail looking women. He glanced back to Illifer and continued closer. The women seemed to have a child in her arms, thrusting the boy in the man's face. The closer he got, the more detail came into view. The women was almost yellow, covered in thick boils and scabs, laced with a sickly ooze. His stomach clenched. There was another man further up the road, heading their way. Rhoynar placed one hand on his sword and continued forwards. The stranger was the same although the illness seemed to have taken his sanity. His clothes were stained with colours Rhoynar dared not to guess and his eyes seemed glazed and lost. Urging his horse past the cart, the screaming woman and her child, the knight forced his mount hard out of the village. He stopped by the outskirts, and turned to look for Illifer.

"How long has this been here?" He asked her once she was close. The lack of life in the village suggested a small while. "I thought this had gone?" The Jakathra Plague, or the yellow sickness as it was more commonly known had been silent for years, yet now it seemed so close to the Capital. There would be no way the temples could handle that many people if the sickness reached the capital. Regardless, it wasn't their mission. No doubt the village would disappear before the plague reached Eleusis.

The warrior smiled as Rhoynar approached. Apparently he hadn’t noticed the conversation and she was grateful to the gods that she wouldn’t have to explain anything to him. As they headed out she couldn’t help notice the ever so slight twitch in his face. Those dark eyes of him seemed gloomy. A shudder went through Illinfers spine and she drove Epona to follow the knight as he picked up the speed. A day, huh? Hopefully he wouldn’t throw himself into the seen as soon as they reached the docs . . . The woman didn’t bother trying to give him a smile. He was so focused. What did she care anyway? She took a deep breath as they left the city walls behind them That place had been so crowded! Now she was back to the familiar freedom of nature. Closing her eyes the woman laid back her head, listening to the rhythmic sound of hooves on stone. Epona was a trained warhorse. She would follow the road, dodging anyone that dared step in her way. The sounds changed as people passed by . . . as did the rhythm of one of the horses. Illinfer snapped back to attention, looking at Rhoynar, then to the cart they were passing.

The warriors features changed as a spike of terror shot through he like a lightning bolt. She drew her sword and laid the blank steel across her saddle in front of her, raining in Epona so she would avoid passing by too close to the cart. When they had finally passed she felt the knights gaze upon her and met his eyes with a grim expression. “You are misinformed. The illness was never entirely eradicated. There was small village near the mountains that was cleansed just recently.” She took a deep breath as she remembered the horrid scenes. Luckily she had been one of the warriors designated to protect the healers. And as they had seen no way of recovery for those poor people they had left for home, taking their guards with them. “Apparently some fled . . .I didn’t know it came this far.” Her voice shook slightly. This was not good. This wasn’t good at all! What if the northern villages were infected as well? She didn’t have the time to go and check. This morning, however, everything had been just fine. She calmed herself with the knowledge that her parents-in-law would flee the instant they saw any signs of the plague. They would be safe.

“We should leave as immediately!” her dark voice sounded earnest and rough as she swallowed down the sickly motion coming from her stomach. Without waiting for an answer she sheathed her sword and kicked her tongue. Her horse sprang into a wild gallop. The people they had passed had been the last on the road. This late most travelers had already taken camp or were about to. No one - except for a certain knight and warrior - was stupid enough to wander the roads at night since there would be thieves roaming about close to the city. The farther the rode the smaller the chance of meeting those lot.

Rhoynar felt the putrid stench of charred flesh reach the nostrils of his memory, flexing against some of the oldest memories he could recall. Streets barricaded and cities closed to those infected with even a hint of the sickness that had spread like wildfire across the Second East and the land they stood in. His earliest memories of travelling in their slave cavalcade from one trading post to another, gathering hundreds of gold coins as they went, were haunted by the faces of those he hadn't even hoped to see. Skin stretched across bone, yellow and decaying. His memories showed him the sites of forlorn corpses, each with a thick yellow ooze pouring from their eyes and ears. The smell had been enough to choke on, thick and demanding in the back of the throat. There had once been a slave in their caravan caught with the plague, only to bring the death to all of those around them. Setting fire to thirty souls over one sign of the debilitating illness had been more than enough warning to a young knight and potential future house lord; the latter was now certain with death of his elder brother some years ago.

His eyes moved from the lost village back to Illinfer.
"How did it reach the mountains?" He asked sharply, somehow expecting his companion to have all the answers despite how unlikely that was. If the illness was still on the move within their home, it wouldn't be long until some trader brought it to Astipor. He dreaded to think of the consequences. Thousands of people and boats sailing between themselves and the trade hub Olas in the Second East. The Knight was protective of their home on the boarder. Most of its citizens were like him, barely any were native to the capital and its lands; most had sailed over at the thought of escaping the harsher life of the East. They were a sanctuary of an entirely different culture and in fifty years the city had changed entirely. Its size would have rivaled the capital now yet its architecture was changing. New buildings rose slowly, each a mile different from the older buildings within the city. It was a different world the further East you went.

Rhoynar pushed his heels into the side of his mount and followed Illinfer along the road. They would have been a strange sight amongst the night of the countryside but time was of the essence and no doubt they'd stay in Astipor until he'd settled the bubbling paranoia he held in his stomach. It was an easy ride, despite its rural route. Forest paths, stone roads and muddy trails would lead them to the city, all at around a day's journey. If they kept up a relatively quick pace, they'd perhaps make it by mid-afternoon however no horse would deal with that journey distance without pause.

The warrior answered with a shrug before she darted off. Epona would manage a few hours but Ilinfer wasn't thinking of pushing her horse that hard. Sure enough she slowed her down after they had left the village far behind them and manoeuvred her horse to also slow down Rhoynars in the process. Riding directly next to each other, almost touching knees, Ilinfer smiled. “It's a terrible plague, but I think our healers will find a cure. They were close last time . . . This time they'll be motivated since they know of the consequences.” The plague had been dismissed as illness of the poor and already sickly in the past. Until it had broken out in the entire country. It was then that the research had started for a cure. The guild had had a close watch on it's people. Many had died, also amongst the guild members. They had been cleansed in Ardebits fire so their souls could move on to another realm in peace.

The northern woman inclined her head. “There is a forest up the road. Within is a clearing where we can make camp. It shouldn't be that far now. I suggest we let the horses rest there before we continue.“ The night had fallen upon the country, the sunset had been hidden by clouds, darkness falling suddenly until all that illuminated the world was the thin moon in the sky and the stars twinkling between the shadows of wispy clouds. Ilinfer thought back to when she had been at the clearing last. It had been on the journey home from a job well done in the south of the country. Her husband had been amongst the men escorting her back to the north. Back then they hadn‘t been married yet, but oh so in love! They had sat by the fire, drinking and singing, shyly holding hands amongst their comrades. Those had been merry days! A smile lingered on her lips as the memory of her early days as a warrior of the guild came back so lively as though it had been just yesterday.

The sound of rustling leaves snapped her back to attention and made her turn her head in the direction it had come from. Her hand rested uopn her sword, muscles tensed in case of an ambush. Alongside the road there were low bushes and a tree every few miles. A lot had been cut down to make the main trade route leading from the north over Astipor and Eleusis to the south passable for big carriages. The road was mostly made of trampled earth and cobble stones around the cities. Here the hooves thuds were dampened by the dirt.
A rabbit left the bush, darting in the low grass until it disappeared into the darkness. She relaxed her body a little, not letting her hand slip from her sword, though. Something had scared that rabbit from it‘s hiding and she was hoping it had been a fox . . . She gave Rhoynar a long hard look, a short nod and then jerked her head forward, indicating that they should continue with haste. It wouldn‘t be wise for bandits to attack them since they would easily be fought back. They should try to reach Astipor unharmed, however, since injuries would slow them down immensely.

The idea of the plague returning was a little too uncomfortable, yet Rhoynar forced himself onwards with haste. He had a duty and it was disappearing back towards his family. They didn't need the money he'd been offered. They needed to get out if what his friend had told him was true. They had an army but not one that was directly loyal to them. No man that bought his army from another man could say his troops were loyal. It troubled him.. Knowing that things weren't always going to be the same. He knew the ride ahead would give him plenty of time to think, not to mention the journey over the ocean. It wasn't a quick journey, but the salty air would give him the space to think. No matter what troubled him, the harsh and wild breeze of the sea had seemed to help. There had been a balcony in Astipor that looked directly out into the blue. He'd spent many a troubled evening losing himself in the breeze, as his father had too. It was quieter there, peaceful.

Rhoynar was thankful when the clearly Illifer spoke about pulled closer. He needed the rest. They both did. His legs ached from the ride, thighs sore and tense. He dismounted and let his feet drop into the mud below, squishing instantly. Looking about he was thankful for the various spots of dry mud; at least they would have somewhere to sit. He turned his attention about, making note of what appeared to be an overused firepit made from stones, sticks, and shrubs from the surrounding foliage. It looked unused for some time, although he was no tracker. He could tell the difference between sand and a desert road but not on this country. It made feeling out of place a little worse. He gave a short sigh and continued to look about the clearing, waiting to see the tell-tale signs of life. Yet he saw nothing, no indication they would be suddenly joined.

His attention turned as soon as his companion's did. One hand immediately dropped to his waist, gripping the hand of his sword with a tense grip. They didn't need a fight, no matter whether man or beast. He stepped carefully back towards his horse, his mind split between whatever was afoot and maintaining his balance in the wet mud. He reached the reigns of his horse and held them tightly, ready to mount as soon as he needed. His talent lied in mounted combat more than it did on foot, although with a sword the advantage was on the ground; pass him a spear however and his foe was a dead man. Brown eyes watched the hedgerow and waited, eyes darting between trees and into the darkness. He couldn't hear a thing to suggest humans were around. He turned his eyes to Illifer as she looked his way and silently agreed. Lifting one foot, he pulled himself into the saddle and pushed his horse forwards. He pulled his arm away from his body, fully revealing his sword. He wanted to be prepared, no matter what.

Ilinfer watched as Rhoynar mounted his horse and let his sword show. Then her eyes went back over the bushes. Someone was watching them. Just as she was about to charge forward to distract the potential enemy so that the knight could flee a whistle broke the silence of the dark night surrounding them. Two hands emerged from the bush. Ilinfer had her sword in her hand and her eyes trained on whoever had chosen to show themselves. "Let me deal with this." She said in a rather commanding tone, briefly looking to the knight before refocusing on the man that now stood in front of his former hiding place.

The man was tall and had sunken cheeks, pale skin and even paler hair. He looked like someone who had experienced battles and had grown tired of them, giving himself up. Ilinfer squinted in the dark that was only illuminated by the stars and a thin sickle of moon. The man lifted his head and stretched out a hand towards her. He mumbled a few words and fire lit from his fingers, licking at his skin without burning him. Ilinfer had seen this power before. It was one of the few magic spells they taught warriors within the fire guild. She gasped in surprise as her eyes fell upon his face. She caught herself and breathed in deeply. Could it possibly be that she would meet her husbands best friend at the place they used to rest at so often?

Now that the flickering flames illuminated the clearing the northern woman noticed that he was alone. It seemed rather odd for him to be alone and not with a smaller group or a companion. She also failed to see the guild pendant dangling on his chest. However she was wrapped in the sight, remembering the sad event when they had last met. It had been a funeral.

She remembered the day as if it were yesterday: The cool last summer breeze dancing with her hair, a babe on her arm, softly sleeping, people in black, mourning, weeping. And the thick scent of rosemary and sage in the air, lulling them all in comfort as they said their farewell.
It had been over a year ago. She'd heard that the man had lost himself and quit working as a warrior. The guilt had eaten him, she had been told, it had torn him apart.

While these thoughts were crowding her mind she held her sword steady trained on the man whose hand was a living torch. Except for her surprised gasp she was her calm and assertive self. Her muscles were tense, ready to pounce if he should move. As a warning she spoke in a low and threatening voice: "Don't come any closer, Darren. I can't trust you right now." She wanted to say something soothing, something that would let him know she didn't blame him for what had happened - but now was not the time nor the place and she knew how dangerous a man could be when he thought he had nothing left to loose.