Vellia watched as the girl slowly tried backing away, probably ready to make a run for it again. "Hold on," Vellia said. "If you're on unfriendly terms with Ylisse like you make it sound when you insult their royalty, then that makes you the enemy of our enemy, and according to my father, you could easily be our ally, if only for a short time. Honestly, I see one of three options: you give the pot back and come with us, or you can give it back and go home, or we all lose out on a meal when I force you to spill it all over. It wouldn't be hard, either."

She felt odd. This was the most she had ever tried to negotiate. Maybe it was because she saw that this girl perhaps had been struggling just the same as she had not long ago. Not that things were altogether better right now, but she wasn't fighting a war on her own anymore, which gave her a sense of comfort. "I would prefer it if you chose the first option. I'm hungry, you're obviously hungry, or you would have gone for our gold rather than our food, and I'm sure everyone else in our company is hungry."

Returning the sword to its scabbard, Vellia made eye contact, allowing a look of neither kindness nor animosity, but understanding, form on her face. "So what'll it be?"

Ambra huffed a bit, putting her bow away and looking in between the two again. Vellia was too... soft. That was very, very hypocritical of her, but she was frightened of that thief. How did she know that the woman would not rip their valuables away as they slept? Her aggression began to fade and fear started to take its place. She sagged more. She was usually very understanding... but even she was wary of accepting a thief into their ranks. "I think she..."
A shadow appeared behind the thief, and she gazed at it. It was thin and a bit taller than the average man, but not menacing enough to frighten her. She knew who it was. His pointed hat and drooping black hair was enough proof to show that he was a friend. "You think she what?" he asked. "I see she has our food. I'm quite surprised that a thief would show up to steal from us while we were all awake." Talbot stepped closer to the woman, holding out his hands. "Give me the pot."
Ambra looked at the thief. Talbot was a force to be reckoned with, even if he was a bit mellow at times. She wouldn't dare to go against a sorcerer, and a very strong sorcerer at that. Yet, Talbot wouldn't kill her- probably scare her off with a spell. She was glad that he wasn't as ruthless. Even if the thief terrified her, she didn't want to see the poor thief lying face down on the ground, her blood making the earth wet.

The choices the woman gave to her weren't among Misani's list of options, "And I could just as easily escape right now..." Yeah, they were hungry, but they were prefectly capable of getting more food on their own and... They had gold? She could of grabbed some of that as well, likely even wait until they were asleep to do it. But that option was gone as well. The woman's words were starting to get to the archer, but not on Misani. Little did she know that there was another behind her.

It was then that she heard a male voice behind her, and she turned her head to look behind her. Unfortunately, as she did so, her foot caught on a root and she fell. Due to her skill with protecting any goods she 'acquires' from others, the pot did a half roll before settling upright with little to no spills when she lost hold of it. When she fell, some of the skin on her burn wound was scraped off, sending a sudden wave of pain up through her body. She immediately let go of her sword as pain overtook her wariness of the threats and made to hold the fresh and bleeding wound with her hands, crying out as she did so.

Talbot blinked in surprise when the woman fell, the pot she held falling to the floor. He heard Ambra give a shriek as it fell, but the cry turned into a sigh of relief when little to no stew fell out of the container. The woman started to cry out on the floor, holding out a bleeding wound. "You two weren't beating her up, now were you?" the question was meant to be a serious one, but amusement still crossed his face. From what he could see, they had chased someone who had taken their food here. And they had cornered her here, well away from the others. He heaved a sigh, pulling off his hat and running a hand through his raven hair. He gazed at Ambra and then at Vellia, frowning at the ever so slightly. "Poor thing, she seems to have burned herself. Who's the healer here?" he questioned, eyes flicking between the two. The red haired woman raised her hand and he smiled. She knew what was coming, He could see it. "I believe it would be the best if you can tend to this woman's wound. The burn isn't that big, but I know the pain of such a wound. It takes little to infect it." he looked back down at the thief, bending down on one knee and setting his arm on the other. "I've seen plenty of thieves before, and this one is not like the rest, She looks sincerely hungry. Perhaps we can give her a bite to eat?" Talbot wasn't always so fond of taking people in, but this was a mere girl that probably didn't know right from wrong.

Misani's eyes watered at the pain, not really paying attention but picking up words at a time. Healer, tend, thieves, these were some of the wounds she made out as her mind cleared. Then came the realization that she was defenseless and vulnerable, and she looked at the one that caused this. A tall, slim sorcerer knelt next to her, sympathy in his words and look. Then another wave of pain came and she shut her eyes, forcing herself to stay quiet.

Talbot was about to speak some more to the two women about the thief, but then he heard something. Voices. Lots of voices. And… hooves hitting the ground. Worry fluttered in his heart and he looked at the women again. No. It couldn’t be. They couldn’t be there already. ”… Listen, you two. Take this woman to safety. Warn the others. Tell them that they need to hurry and pack up and leave.” he told them, his eyes growing dark. They wouldn’t take any more lives. Not on his watch. He thought of Natalia… and Helena. The one with the large blue eyes and red hair stared at him. She opened her eyes as if to say something but Talbot quickly silenced her. ”Go!” he snapped, and got to his feet. The woman nodded curtly and began to help the thief up from the ground.

He, however, took off and darted in the direction of the voices. Oh, Naga, help me. he pleaded, clenching his teeth as he leapt over a dry root. Give me strength, and please let them take the bait…

Coming across a worn path, he saw the people in the distance. An army, maybe two, coming toward him. At the head were two masculine figures. To him, one looked familiar, but the other one spurred no memories. Talbot stood there, bristling, as they approached. “Who’s this? A mage?” the familiar one spoke, and Talbot instantly knew who he was.

”Pleased to meet you, Exalt.” there was venom dripping from Talbot’s voice, and he pulled out an Arcwind from his satchel. ”I don’t think you know me.”

Darrian’s eyes looked him up and down, something glistening in his gaze. “All I see is a mage.”

”Shepherd sorcerer.” at that, Darrian snarled. ”You killed them. You killed them all. You killed my fiancé, and you killed my friends.” Talbot stood defiantly in front of the army. ”I have nothing else to live for. Except for making you pay.”

At that, Talbot held up his hand and hissed out a word. The Arcwind spell slammed into the Lord, but caused little damage. The Exalt stood his ground and cursed, unsheathing his sword, and preparing himself to fight. Talbot smirked. Yes, this was exactly what he was hoping for.

He turned his back and darted into the sparse forest, the whole army roaring at his heels. He ran and ran, his breath coming out in gasps. This was what he wanted. Even if he died, he would save the rest of the Shepherds from the attack that was going to come onto them. If he hadn’t done this… they would have all been slaughtered like pigs. But his heart was leaping, his legs were becoming tired. No, he had to go further. He had to take them as far away from the rest as possible. Hopefully, that archer and other woman told everyone to flee. he thought. Natalia… I… I’ll be with you in a bit, okay?

They came upon a dead end after running beside a steep cliff that led to what seemed to be a trickle of water that closely resembled a river. Talbot stopped at the edge, panting wildly as he gazed down below. This is the end. the thought crossed his mind as he heard the thundering of hooves and feet against the floor. The ground trembled and he glanced up at the wall of rock that stretched far above his head, blocking him from further progress. At least everyone is safe.

A chuckle made him spin around to face Darrian and his men. He was laughing atop his horse, clapping his gloved hands together sarcastically. “How bold of you.” said Darrian. “You spent your life on one blow.”

”It was worth it.” Talbot took a fighting stance again and stared at Darrian. ”And I’m about to give some more.”

”Tsk.” Darrian almost looked bored. “I’m not going to waste my time pulling out Falchion again. You’re nothing. Just some brave-hearted fool that decided to throw his head on a blade.”

Talbot continued to look directly at Darrian. His fist hand clenched, and he forced himself to stand taller than ever. ”I did not sacrifice myself for no reason.” he told him bluntly. ”There is always something to fight for.”

Darrian sighed and looked toward one of his Pegasi Knights, giving her a lazy motion. She nodded and brought her winged horse forward, the tip of her lance glistening in the moonlight. Talbot narrowed his eyes and prepared another spell… yet the woman was coming closer and closer. The lance tipped downward, aiming to strike. He had to take a step back, he just had to… his foot met air, and he lost his balance. “Ah!” he let out, falling backwards. Yet the sandy ground did not meet him. Air rushed passed him as he fell down the cliff.

The last thing he felt was the wind tugging at his clothes and pressing against his back, as if he were flying.

---

It was one of the most terrifying experiences that Ambra had gone through. She trotted back to camp, dragging the thief with her. Bile had risen in her throat and she was sure that she was going to throw up from fatigue and stress. However, she knew that it could be fatal if she did. She would lose all of her meal, and all of the water she drank. She had more, but… the bout of vomiting could bring about more. She panted as she entered the clearing, setting the thief to the side before flailing wildly. For some reason, words escaped her at the moment. What could she say? That Talbot was potentially dead? That the army was nearby? She flailed for a while more before she paused, finally speaking. ”We have to go!” she cried. ”The bad guys are close!”

She knew what she had to do. They had some extra steeds. Zaino and a few other Shepherds were passed out, out of hunger, dehydration, weariness. It was a sad sight, but they had to go. Untying some of the horses from the trees, she got them ready for riding. Dragging a woman to its feet and tugging her on the saddle, she tied her down and looked for someone else to put on the saddle. Ah, there he was. Zaino, that Shepherd that had asked her about the baby stuff. She dragged him to the feet of another horse, but he was too heavy and tall for her to put on the back of the horse herself. She grunted, struggling with his weight and size. Great…

An extra pair of hands helped her, and when she looked up, she saw green eyes looking back at her. “He’s a heavy guy. We’ll yank him up on the count of three. Ready?” Lumara’s words were angry and slurred and drunken, yet there was an undertone of anxiety in them. Was it possible that she was afraid as well? Lumara, a Wyvern Lord who boasted and grunted of her power and strength? Ambra trembled at the thought. If she’s scared, should I be even more so? “One, two, three!” the two women pushed Zaino into the saddle, and Lumara quickly tied him down so he wouldn’t fall. “Get the rest of the stuff ready. I’ll look for anymore unconscious people.”

Ambra nodded and turned back the way she came. The pot had fallen but not much of the stew fell out. She rushed back to get it, and took it into her hands. Even though it was heavy and would slow them down a bit, it was vital to the Shepherds. With the help of Lumara once more, she was pushed onto the horse that Zaino was on and glowered at. “Just because I’m helping you doesn’t mean I like you.” Lumara snapped. “You’re a Shepherd and that’s all that matters. Now, keep a firm hold on that pot. That’s gonna be our dinner.” Ambra nodded and the blond woman walked away to the brown beast she called a mount.

I wonder if Talbot is okay… she thought as she looked down at Zaino and then at everyone else.

Talbot was off before Vellia could even realize what was going on, and for a moment, she stood there, stunned. He . . . he's trying to play the hero, but he knows he stands no chance. She wanted to run after him, but he was too far ahead. She wouldn't be able to catch up. Reluctantly, she followed his order to return to camp and warn the others.

Ambra got there first, though, due to Vellia's hesitation. But when she arrived, Vellia wasted no time in helping everyone pack and with lifting the unconscious to the steeds. She had none of her own, but she didn't mind having to walk. What of Talbot? Would they see him again? Though Vellia was certain he was skilled, she knew he was no match for the mightiest of the Ylisseans. She felt like her gut was doing backflips. She could have, should have, stopped him. There was no need for a sacrifice. They might have been able to get away if their most skilled people had formed a diversion while the others readied themselves. They had the manpower for that, didn't they?

But it was too late now. What was done was done, and there was no changing that. Vellia ran alongside the horses as they galloped away, and she felt a single tear fall from her eye.

It was a bad time for Tihlas to start getting tipsy, but he would hold himself together until they were safe again. He returned with Lumara, becoming aware of the situation almost at the same time as she, and helped get ready to depart. He helped Lumara load some supplies on Caius before grabbing a few bags of essentials and weapons and putting them on his shoulders. His helm was back on and his shield strapped to his back as he looked around to see if everyone was ready.

"Everyone ready to go?"

As the Shepards began packing and preparing to leave, Alicia helped, loading as many supplies as she could onto her pegasus. It took some time, but eventually, they managed to get all of their supplies and injured secured away. As the rest of the Shepards prepared to leave, Alicia made to mount her pegasus when three men on horseback entered the clearing. Turning her head, she glanced over at the intruders, and gasped.

"F-Father?!" Alicia stood still in shock, one hand clutching her Killer Lance with a death grip. Lantus urged his horse forward at a walk, advancing with his sword drawn.

"You're safe. Good." Lantus nodded at the blond, his expression softening for a split second before his face returned to his usual stoicism. "Come with me, Alicia. Exalt Darrian has appointed me as a general once more. I can assure your safety and secure clemency for you."

"I..." Alicia hesitated, glancing at her father before behind her to the Shepards. Ambra was still there, looking sick from fatigue and stress. A brief flash of the archer injured at the hands of Ylissan fliers popped into Alicia's mind, and she steeled her resolve, turning back around to stare at her father and his bodyguards resolutely. "I'm sorry, Father, but I can't do that. If I go with you, I would be abandoning my comrades to the Exalt's army. Doing so would make me no better than the Exalt himself."

Lantus sighed, frowning. "So you choose the Shepards over your own blood? Very well, then." He turned his head back to his bodyguards, who bore the heavy armor and horse representative of Great Knights. "Aedan, Fergus, kill the rest of the Shepards. Leave Alicia untouched." The Paladin brandished his sword, preparing to run down the fleeing Shepards when Alicia quickly mounted her pegasus and maneuvered herself between the Shepards and Lantus, who narrowed his eyes. "Clever." Lantus stated, a hint of approval coming through his voice as he saw that the Shepards were moving towards the tree line and into the forest, where his horse's movement would be impeded. "You would take advantage of my unwillingness to harm my own daughter? Very good, Alicia. Realize, though, that this tactic won't work a second time. I have no grudge against your comrades, but if killing them would secure your safety from the Exalt, then I will not stop pursuing them." He stated matter-of-factly, sheathing his sword as the last of the Shepards vanished into the forest. "Goodbye, daughter. Stay alive." Lantus gave Alicia a nod as she urged Bellerophon into the skies.

"Goodbye, father." Alicia replied in kind as her pegasus ascended. "For what it's worth, I'm sorry." And with that, she fled the battle as well, racing to rejoin the rest of the Shepards as Lantus watched on before turning as he saw the Ylissan army finally catch up to him.

"Ah, my lord." Lantus gave a bow from atop his steed as Darrian approached, giving the man a stern stare. "I see you've finally realized that using an entire army to chase down one man is a waste of time. Had I the infantry and aerial forces that you took to hunt down a single Shepard, I may have been able to chase down the rest of them. But I'm certain you had your reasons for pursuing a single man with such determination. I take it that man is dead, then?" Lantus said with absolutely no hint of mockery or sarcasm at all.

Darrian’s eyes remained on the cliff for a while before he turned back to his army. However, no words escaped him as he rode his steed away from the edge, his men and women separating to give him room. Well, that was done for. He had hoped for a more exciting battle, but what could he expect from a mage that had separated from the group? His hand that held the reigns of his new horse tightened as he clenched his teeth. Okay, maybe that had been idiotic… but… it was instinct that had brought him to do that. It had been a little fun, though. It was just like going on a fox hunt. He could practically smell the fear that flowed off that man as he faced them, ran, and fell.

He found himself face to face with Lantus, who practically pointed out his flaw. He returned his stare and snarled. ”I knew what I was doing. Don’t think otherwise.” he snapped, turning his horse and beginning to lead the army at a leisurely pace down the path he had traveled before. ”I’m pretty sure that the mage made a splat bigger than Emmeryn’s. There’s no way that there could have been that much water to buffer his fall.” Darrian tipped his chin up and gazed ahead. He was the Exalt. They had to listen to him. Even if his move had been brash, he would have given everyone a hundred lashes if they did not follow him after that stray.

”I plan to return to Ylisstol in a few days’ time.” he told Lantus bluntly. ”It seems that you and Xanxus can handle yourselves here. You have no need for my blade and I grow tired of riding around in circles.” he gave Lantus a sidelong glance, the beginnings of a scowl tugging at his lips. ”I do not care if I have an escort or not. My dear generals seem to have more brains than I do.”

Aelitha Velone, Troubadour-for-hire, wasn't doing much that day, just lazing about by a river, fishing for free food. Casually flicking the fly back and forth, hoping for a big fish to take the bait so that she didn't have to spend any of her hard-earned money on daily necessities. No bite though, and she was getting rather bored of this. Sometimes, she wish she had a net or something, but at the same time, a net was much to big to lug around in her travels. Her rucksack was already half her weight, and she was pretty sure that her horse was getting tired of carrying the basics of a house on its back. Sitting on a rock and letting out a deep, long sigh, the blonde girl wondered how long it would be until she got something worth eating. It has already been three hours, and it was all rather...depressing, how nothing at all has happened.

It was then that an object fell from the skies, diving into the river and causing a giant splash that promptly drenched Aelitha. Immediately looking upwards, yet seeing nothing above on the cliff, the healer then took a look at the person before her. A brunette male, maybe a few years older than her. The impact had twisted his limbs in some odd manner, and she was fairly confident that at least one of his organs were ruptured. An unpleasant expression appeared on her face. Suicide? No, there were ways of dying that were much faster than this. She could still see that he was alive, his chest going up and down ever so slightly. But the worst thing was that the young man was still conscious. His eyes were dim, but they were still function, the pupils dilating. Clicking her tongue, Aelitha rolled up her sleeve, put aside her fishing pole, and then dragged the man back to the rocky shore. He felt too soft, his forearms giving away to her strength, bending too much to appear normal. The man was conscious, but would die without any intervention. She made a quick evaluation, and decided that she needed money. When she brought back her hands, they were red, stained with his blood.

His body was still warm though, so something annoying like getting sick WHILE heavily injured probably wouldn't be a threat. The man held onto a tome, showing that he was a mage. So it was an attack, perhaps. But by who?

No, why was she thinking this, when she could simply ask him.

Tilting his head to the side and letting the blood pour out, Aelitha waited until his mouth seemed relatively clear before she began to speak.

“Generally, I wouldn't bother with you, but you seem like a mercenary, and I need to get some jobs. So here's the deal. You tell me what's going on, as well as let me join in on whatever future jobs you might have, and I'll heal you for a price, okay?”

And without asking for his consent, she forged onwards. Seems like fishing will have to be

---

A few days had passed since that odd incident, and the man was now recovering in an inn room that Aelitha was paying for. It was eating into her budget, and apparently, this Talbot was going to pay her AFTER he reunited with his mercenary group, so she really was running dry. Ah, and it seemed like he was part of the Shepherds as well, the same mercenary corps that was being hunted down by some stupid, paranoid king for some stupid, silly reason. What an annoying mess. Shoulda just ignored him until he died of natural causes and looted his corpse, but, alas, Aelitha wasn't THAT cold-hearted of a young lady, even if the healing spells she stacked up on him pretty much made her take a nap right after.

Sighing in a melancholic manner, the girl played with her mug, still half-filled with warm caramel cider. The Plegian taverns were, like the rest of the country, rather backwater and simple, the waitresses looking more like trolls and giantesses than humans, but it was still a place with interesting dishes. The caramel cider, at least, tasted like a honeyed variation of hot chocolate, with a thicker texture. She honestly didn't understand HOW the 'cider' part fit in, but she didn't really want to ask. Her funds were really drying up, regardless. The smoked rabbit would only last her another meal, at best, and she hadn't eaten any good vegetables for sometime. “If only rabbits tasted like carrots,” she murmured, staring into her reflection on the surface of the cider before sipping the beverage once more. It would be nice though, if things actually tasted like what they ate. Would make hunting wolves and such much more reasonable, instead of simply killing those poor predators for their furs.

“Ugh, if only hunting was better...but nope, wilderness's super empty nowadays...alas, I shoulda just married that knight kiddie while I had the chance, but ah well...”

In that Plegian tavern, Aelitha simply continued with her murmurings, getting rather displeased with her whole life situation. Downing the last of her cider, she burped and then said to no one in particular, “God dammit, if only those damned Shepherds wore signs above their heads or something...I want my money already...”

Walking over the hill, feeling the wind blow behind him, the figure walked forward with his cloak flowing behind him. No one paid attention to him, for as soon as they saw the swords at his side and an axe behind it, they knew him to be a warrior. He marched onwards to the establishment where he may find himself some money. And perhaps a drink.

Opening up the door, he marched up to the innkeeper, who was trying to clean a glass cup. He waited until the man was done with his task. It would not do until the keeper had completed. The cloaked warrior looked around the building, looking for anybody of interest. All that were there was a young woman sipping at a mug. In the corner, men sat huddled together.

The innkeeper finally took notice of the stranger and spoke to him:

"What da you want? Food and drink? A bed?"

With a low voice, the soldier turned to the owner.

"I need work. Anybody come by, asking for people to be dead?"

A shudder went through the keeper's body. This was no simple man; this was a killer.

"Kalar Pallaxis what I am called by some. Others do not speak at all. Now, do you have a job?"

The whole first floor of the inn, the place where it was usually bustling and filled with drunkards, was living up to its name. Even though that stupid mage had thrown himself at the Ylissean army, she didn’t care at the moment. The woman was leaning against a wall, her eyes closed as she drank deeply from a flask of whiskey. The liquid was warm in her throat, and when she finished taking that swig she wiped away the moisture from the corner of her mouth and looked around. There were a lot of new faces… one was frightening the innkeep and the other was drinking some sort of cider. The sight of new people kept her on edge; she was ready for a fight if there was one.

Lumara sighed and looked down at the tawny color of the drink. She stared at her reflection and narrowed her eyes. Maybe she would have stood a chance against that army if that idiot didn’t run off. She couldn’t relate to that stupid mage with the hat though. He was always spunky and singing, and now that she thought of it, she supposed that she would kinda miss his music. Her eyes drifted around the room some more. People were huddled in groups and being silent, others were just drinking and speaking to each other. Someone laughed. Someone else yelled an insult. Idiots. Now wasn’t the time for that.

She took another deep swig from her flask and leaned more heavily against the wall. The wall was old and made of rotten planks, and there were little holes in which granules of sand streamed in. She’d hate to be in there during a sandstorm, which was bound to happen sooner or later in that barren land. Finishing the last of her drink, she coughed and ran a hand through her hair. Why did I join the Shepherds..? she wondered. I could have joined the Stone Bears, or Fierce Storm. those bandits wouldn’t have had as many deaths as this.

Lumara went to get another drink, brushing by the man who seemed to be a killer, and went back to lean against the wall. This time she had ordered scotch. She wanted to get drunk, which was exactly what she was doing. Maybe she would pass out. Maybe she would wake up in bed with a handsome man. She didn’t care. She didn’t even care if she had a hangover. She just wanted to get wasted. Be a happy, robust Lumara. Maybe she would, maybe she wouldn’t. Taking an even bigger gulp of scotch, she felt the warmth spreading in her chest and belly. That’s what I want… she thought as she drank more. I want to feel like I’m flying on the back of Caius.

---

Ambra frowned as she walked toward the steps, a few plates of food and forks and knives and spoons in her hands. She wobbled, but kept her balance and made sure that none of the food would fall to the floor. The items she had in her hands were soft foods, perfect for an unconscious person. A plate of warm, mashed desert spud, along with a soup of herbs and some mystery meat. The food looked bland but smelled good, however, the most important thing she had was at her waist; a heaving water pouch. She would go to each and every unconscious man and woman and feed them and give them water. They fought, so they deserved it.

The red haired woman first thought of Talbot. Poor, poor Talbot. That was the second death on their hands, and she couldn’t do anything. The first was Helena. Poor, poor Helena. She had been a good woman even though she didn’t know her. Her eyes grew distant as she walked into the first room, where a broken man lay. He was a broad shouldered man, huge, strong, and very fierce. He had hair of red, darker than hers, and his eyes were closed as his mouth opened to let out a groan of pain. Ambra tipped her head to the side and closed the door behind her.

She went to all of the rooms that the Shepherds were inhabiting, until she came upon Zaino’s. Frowning, she looked down at the ground. He was the worst off. He was weak and shriveled like a lotus flower in a parched land. Ambra knew that she should have gone to him first… but… maybe she just didn’t want to seem like she was suffocating him. He needed his space. But now, she had to help him. If she didn’t, he would die. Taking the fresh mashed potatoes and soup and water, she sat on the edge of the bed and began to feed him. It was a tedious task—she had to make sure that all of the food was down his throat and out of his mouth. The soup and mashed spud would give him energy, and, when all of the food was gone, she gave him the water. She gave him all of the water that she had. He seemed better now, with a full belly… and water in his system.

Ambra yawned and stretched, taking the empty plates and dirty utensils back downstairs before once again returning to the second floor with her own plate of food. She ordered solid food for herself, at least, not like mashed desert potatoes or soup. A chunk of dry meat sat on the old sandy platter, along with some old, dried vegetables and desert fruit. It would be her meal for now, and the fruit would take the role as dessert. She slipped into a room she had rented and sat at the edge of the bed, ripping off a piece of what seemed like beef and popping it into her mouth. A bit too dry, but properly seasoned. Good enough. she thought as she swallowed.

Tihlas sat near Lumara, alone because he felt that he had no place with the others and near Lumara because she was the one he knew the most out of the group, no matter how little it was. He had been drinking for just as long as the others had, but it hadn't gotten to him yet as he watched the laughs, insult, and strangers in the tavern. They were mourning, and he couldn't help himself but to mourn as well and try to drown himself ion drink.

Talbot, that was the man's name, he had gone out of his way to distract or at least slow the exalt's army long enough for them to escape. He may not have known the guy very well, but he had to admit that his music and actions, they were something that he could've gotten used to. He took a large swig of his drink and left it and his arm more or less fall back onto the table. He stared into the liquid, his wavy reflection looking back at him as more thoughts swam through his mind.

He couldn't help himself when he thought to himself and asked what he could've done differently, what he could have done to prevent all of it from happening. Lumara made her way back with a fresh drink and leaned against the again. Tihlas decided he needed another as well and came back, this time sitting at the table closest to her and leaning a chair against the wall. "Drinking helps, huh?" It wasn't much, but he had to start talking to someone. "What are you drinking now?"

---

Misani wasn't among the unconcious, but was stuck with the group none-the-less. They were mourning about a guy called Talbot, and so she thought she could've escape, but had been stopped by that Ambra woman due to her injury. It was annoying, but she had made sure to return the favor eveer since. She sat on the bottom step, observing all of the others in the tavern, some getting drunk off their arses.

It was a pain to walk, as she tried her best to keep her wounded leg from bending very much. She knew enough about the healing process to do this so that her skin wouldn't heal in such a way as to prevent her from stretching or straightening her leg. Yeah, a pain, and annoyance. Finally getting bored with watching people that she couldn't steal from, she made her way upstairs to Ambra's room.

Not bothering to knock, she walked in with the weird limp and said bluntly, "Its bothering me again." This was one of two things that she'd been saying to bug and annoy the archer girl since she got stuck with her, the other one being, "Will you teach me how to use a bow?"

Lumara allowed her eyes to flick over to the man, a frown crossing her face. She brought her hand up to her face, and brushed some golden strands away from her face. Tihlas... that man she was keeping an eye on, right? But she had forgot to take care of him. Great, he could have gone and killed everyone in their group. But he didn't. He began to speak to her, and she looked back at her drink. "Scotch." she told him. "I suppose it does calm your nerves." the blond woman sighed deeply and shook her head. She didn't know why she was so down. She didn't even know Talbot that well. "What are you drinking?" she questioned him.

---

Someone walked into the room and she looked up with surprise. She had thought that it was going to be someone else, but it was instead the blond haired thief. She said those two phrases that was beginning to annoy her, and Ambra furrowed her brow. "If the wound is bothering you, then you shouldn't be walking around too much." she told her for what seemed the thousandth time. "I told you that I'm not going to teach you how to use a bow, so stop asking," the thief would have a much larger range to attack, and she might go and stick an arrow in one of their backs before taking off. Maybe she was being too grouchy, but she was just afraid of her.

Tihlas nodded in agreement to her comment on how a good drink can calm one's nerves. Then she gave him a question to answer, "I don't really know, I think its beer. But it might be scotch since you were up there right before me." He drank a little more, "I didn't really get specific about what I wanted..." His thoughts returned to the Shepherd that they lost, even if he didn't know him, it was hard to lose another comrade. "I don't think its strong enough to cheer me up..."

---

"If it wasn't bothering me, why would I have come to you in the first place?" Misani replied for the umpteenth time, it was slightly entertaining that she could get on the archer's nerves that easily. {b]"No. I'm gonna keep asking."[/b] She said in reply to the second answer. She had gotten interesting in learning archery when she seen Ambra hunting and practicing her bow work. Misani had a bow herself, that she stole off a watchman, and figured she might as well learn to use it properly.

Figuring that she wouldn't get any more entertainment from this, she left the room and decided to do some snooping. Maybe 'borrow' some tavern goer's loot from one of the room. So Misani started peeking into rooms that weren't occupied by members of the group.

His words surprised her. He didn’t know what he was drinking? Well then. Lumara rolled her eyes and looked to the side, heaving a long winded sigh. What he said was true for her as well, though. This alcohol wasn’t making her feel any better either. Her green eyes flicked toward him once more, the frown on her lips remaining. Okay, maybe she missed that mage brat a bit. But he was better gone. Then he wouldn’t have to suffer as they were suffering at the moment. He wouldn’t feel hunger or pain, sadness or hate. Lumara looked toward the door and furrowed her brows. ”This isn’t making me feel any better, either.” she snapped at him as if it were his fault.

If she had stayed with those bandits, she would have been free, riding Caius whenever she liked and only raising a sword when it was absolutely necessary. She would have been safe, not on this wild hunt. Believe it or not, she was terrified to fall asleep at times. She had the worst type of nightmares… Ones of them showing up and slaughtering everyone in their sleep like the cowards they were. And yet, she would feel them looming over her, see their shadows, yet do nothing. That was why she was a night person. She didn’t get enough sleep anymore, and someone had told her that was probably why she was so grumpy.

Bah, screw them. They had nothing that they had that would be of use to her. She was Lumara and that was all she was. She fought with the Shepherds against the bad guys, yet she didn’t feel like she was grumpy. Swallowing the rest of her scotch, she wandered over to the bartender and ordered another flagon full of ‘the hard stuff’. The man gave her rum and turned away from her. He obviously didn’t want anything to do with a lady with that face on. Lumara took another drink from the cup before walking back next to Tihlas. Maybe she had to mix drinks to get drunk. She had heard that was when the alcohol took a toll on you the most.

”Whatever. I just want to get drunk, maybe fool around some.” she told him bluntly. That was her, alright. Lumara was very straightforward with her life. ”Lay in bed with a man for a while. That always makes me feel better. N-not that I care about that man that died. No, I just feel a bit depressed, that’s all. We hardly have any lives.”

Vellia just lay in bed, staring up at the ceiling. Tal was dead. There was no chance for him to survive the Ylissean army. And she felt it was her fault. She'd barely met the guy, but he was a companion, the first companion she'd had in a long time. She didn't want to eat at the moment, though she knew she should.

She finally decided to climb out of the bed, and when she left the room to head downstairs, she nearly toppled over the thief. It bothered her that the girl refused to disclose her name. She had learned everyone's names, except the thief's, from just a few of the other Shepherds, not willing to talk to some. Like that girl Lumara. She looked nice enough, but Vel quickly found that her appearance was in stark contrast to her personality. Vellia shuddered.

The door to Ambra's room was open, and Ambra was simply sitting there eating. Vellia figured she might check in on the other girl. "Hey, Ambra?" she began. "I just figured I'd ask and, um . . . see if you were alright. I know you've been doing a lot for the rest of the company, especially the . . . uh . . . injured ones."

She was depressed, not only did the frown on her face show it, but the way she snapped at him as well. No, it wasn't making either of them feel better. So, they needed stronger drink. Tihlas remembered his father once saying something about how a good drinks can dull any pain, or raise anyone's spirits. Well, he needed his spirits raised about now, and the drink he currently had wasn't quite working. He finished his mug right as Lumara returned with her new drink.

Bluntly, she said something to him, but he missed the part about laying in bed with a man. "You're not the only one, I keep thinking about..." He stopped and went to the bartender, requesting whatever she had gotten, and made his way back to his chair, "I keep thinking, 'What could I have done differently?' And tear myself up for not being able to help my comrades, or my family."[b] Her comment about hardly having any lies brought itself up in his mind again, [b]"Well, here's to living the lives we do got." He raised his mug to her.

Just like the mutt Ylisse called an Exalt to send an assassin after his father. 'Diplomacy' in the form of a sword touting bully with his head shoved firmly between his droopy Ylissean ass cheeks, swinging around his blades in an attempt to kill a superior Plegian opponent before running with his tail between his legs. All while Laius was out discussing very important matters with some of the city's local women. Truly shameful. But such was to be expected of their cowardly neighbors. The disgrace they called a king clearly realized how outmatched his forces were and attempted to weaken Plegia by assaulting their leadership in the night. Such was to be expected of a country who would poison the innocent and crusade across continents using Naga as a justification for their brutality. It would've done the world some good if his ancestor had struck the Hero-King down after Validar's defeat. Then the Exalted bloodline would no longer plague the world with their 'blessed by a dragon' hubris and viscous, war like tendencies. Perhaps this war would be the last. Maybe Plegia would finally cripple Ylisse like the filthy sewer of a land it was meant to be. That would be a pretty nice coronation gift.

So insulted had the young prince been, that upon hearing of the attempt on his father's life he had nearly marched off to personally assist the forming army to bring glorious Ylisse blood upon the sand. But, his parents had convinced him to make a detour. Insisting they needed the help of Regna Ferox in the conflict. He believed no such thing, but decided to follow with their wishes. Perhaps their Feroxi allies would also enjoy crumbling Ylisse for their arrogance in recent years. Plus, it wasn't a bad idea to personally meet and befriend the Khans, whose rule would likely overlap with his when the time came for him to ascend to the throne. Maybe they even had lovely dark skinned beauties for daughters, ready to be whisked away by a brave desert born prince~

The prince's journey north had been only days in the making. He left the castle alone, duping his assigned bodyguards with his cunning and lightning reflexes. He needed no guards, a detachment only slowing him down. He had managed out in the desert just fine, moving from village to village on his journey to the frozen landscapes of Plegia's northern borders. He was blessed by another one to stay the night in as the sun died out for the day. The regal teenager, wrapped firmly in a rough tanned cloak to protect himself from the sandy winds and harsh sun as much as to shroud his identity pushed the doors to the town's local inn open and strutted in. If he was trying to play the part of a fatigued wanderer, he was failing. His confident swagger and air of superiority was heavy as he made his way to the barkeeper.

He vaguely noticed something familiar about some of those around him, particularly the blonde choking down alcohol like it was water on a blazing summer day, but he paid it no mind. Laius plopped down on a bench by the bar, awaiting the inn owner to notice him. It seemed a strange man, also wrapped in a cloak, was addressing him.

"I may have work." The prince spoke, grinning towards the mercenary. "I doubt it'll involve much bloodshed, though. But I'm sure coin is worth more to you then bodies." His hands slipped from under his cloak, lowering his hood so his shaggy golden hair spilled out. His crystal blue eyes sized up the man. "Although, if I do hire you, I have one condition. Drop the mysterious stranger act. It's been done."