After the immediate battle had settled with the surviving enemies retreating and hiding, Alvin gave Griswald a sideways smirk. "Well that was easy, should only be a couple more men standing between us and escape. So, you, me, and Marwood." He said looking over to the other prince and raising his voice a little to get his attention. "Shall advance forward with our lances and hopefully make short work of them and hightail it outta here." He finished with a final nod to Marwood and Griswald.

"Shall we?" Alvin gripped Medea's reins in his hand and urged the wyvern forward, coming to a stop a few feet in front of the man with the spiked mace. Behind him he heard one amongst his company call out.

"Oi! Morag you pox-ridden, ponce brained, limp wristed sheep fondler! I've come to repay the hospitality you showed my boy last month!"

Alvin turned and saw the archer who had been helping them escape, so he was a streetlord of some kind? His experiance in surviving the outside world would prove invaluable, so Alvin put on his best lord face and stared Morag down. "So, you've grieved my friend have you? I 'll tell you what, stand aside or you'll be wyvern food." The threat delivered in an ice cold voice uncharacteristic of Alvin. If anyone who knew him had heard him they'd be shocked at the pure malice in his voice. "And I assure you, she's quite hungry." He added, patting Medea's neck who let out a low snarl for emphasis.

It seems that the Spike Guild had made bitter enemies merely by their pressence this day, Archibald swore and alvin threatened morag, past grieviences rose to give the wronged ones courage.

But Ret was a simpler man, he just hated how morag treated the poor soldier. It might be because of this, that he started to pry his attention from morag, feeling that both the archer and dragoon's enemity would suffice, that he noticed the hint of a spear sticking out beside the wall in front of them.

An ambush?
Ret's brow rose at the notion, quickly he dipped his right hand into a satchel of iron dust and brushed it against his tome - pulling ambient electrons onto his palm. Stepping forwards past the frontlines, he deftly reached out to grab the hidden enemies' spear by it's handle in an attempt to stimy any retaliation, and with his other hand, deliver a charged fist to where he thought the soldier's face would be.

These men were clearly lowliest among even Jehannan mercenaries, belonging to one of the lower caste Guilds. If he recalled correctly, it was the Spike Guild, led by the boastful sword-fighter, Morag. Even his body type alone measured up that his bite wasn't quite up to par with his bark. With this small mass of combatants escorting the Fire Emblem, there was no question as to whether they could break through Morag. Indeed, if the group picked their paths carefully, they could find themselves simply having to plow their way through the lesser guilds, in wherever across the world they were going.

The only question, then, was how long it would take until Sion put the chase on them. Not very long, with the rate he was advancing. At best, this motley crew of escorts would start having Jehannan guilds and search parties in hot pursuit for them by next morning. And then, where would the last of Grado go? Sion has easily taken the keep, so it was doubtful they would have any more luck even in a place like Renvall. So, too, it seemed like no other country previously aligned with Grado has reason to harbor them... even Renais, in spite of Marwood's wishes.

Griswal had a fair measure of time to mull this over in his head as Alvin spouted out his plan and charged forward once more. The Grado Knight would stomp after the Wyvern Rider, but Griswal knew he stood little chance of properly keeping up with the prince. He might've even thought to stop and ask Aldo of his intentions of the caravan once they fled the capitol, but this was not the time nor place for more than a moment's discussion.

So Griswal simply thought it out for himself. With Grado teeming with Jehannan invaders, Frelia nearly in civil war over what side to take, Renais unwilling and unable to help, and Carcino practically running off of Jehanna, that only left Rausten unconcerned. There were some rising rumors that the young new emperor, Edan, had intentions to put a stop to the sudden war, but there was a lacking of certainty. What was certain was that one of Rausten's most acclaimed scholars published the idea that the Fire Emblem must be destroyed, for one reason or another.

It was either Frelia or Rausten. Both very shaky, and without guarantee that even their swaying the local lord to their side would prove to be enough. Such was the trials of survival in a war where you were the enemy.

Marwood looked at Alvin and nodded back. "Aye, lets get out of here, to Renais or Frelia. We have friends there who can at least hide us for bit. We can try to work out a way to end this war without dragging the other nations in to it all." He said sheathing his sword and pulling his lance. "Even if my mother can't help us, my knights and my brother will at least give us some aid."

He told them as his horse kicked at the cobblestone, she was thrilled as her rider to be in combat. "Griswal we could get you a horse in Renais if you wish to keep up with Alvin and I." He smiled slightly mocking the knight. "Or maybe a very strong Pegasus... You could be the first male among to ride one!" He chuckled then turned back to the task at hand.

"So Alvin, ready to end to get out of here?" He said as his charger took in a blaze, Marwood spinning his lance around the mount. He really did look more like a knight than a prince as he head straight for the leader ignoring the others cries of war.

He simply stopped alongside stabbing at him. "Your lucky, I'll make your death quick and painless. Everyone else would rather savor it a little. They've all got something against you it seems." The prince told him as he attacked.

There was a little stunned blink of surprise from Morag’s one exposed eye, as he stared down the corridor and heard a voice shouting his name with a few insults. ‘I’ve come to repay the hospitality you showed my boy last month’…? … “AH!” A grin of excitement spread, not that anyone could see his mouth under that mask, as Morag glared ahead realizing just who was facing him in here. “… Oh, this is going to be a pleasure. I will finally be able to stomp your little band to smithereens, without any dumb citizens I once couldn’t touch defending your every move…!”

… Though, there were more than just him. There was the prince of Grado, wasn’t he? Morag grinned even more at that which he said… “… Your ‘friend’, you say? That does it. Grado Royalty has been secretly supporting the bandits stealing your own wealth that we mercenaries had to deal with. Then you had all this coming. … Or maybe you don’t even know who your ‘friend’ here is…?” Morag made a diabolical little chuckle. “Guess that doesn’t even matter.” The leader of the Spike Guild then directed his mace towards Alvin, a little gleaming excitement in his eyes. “You won't be leaving here alive. I’ve always wanted to snare myself a royal…” … “Or two.” He added, seeing Marwood riding rapidly towards him.

Due to a mixture of seeing the prince of Renais riding towards him and being fully prepared for action, Morag had no problem nodding his head a bit with a command. The Fighter to his right dashed forward, axe at the ready, to meet the currently lance-wielding prince. Since Morag wasn’t even intending on facing that match-up at that time, he was able to get out of the way of the fast stab while the axe-user ran up to slice diagonally upwards at Marwood where he was seated on his horse. “… Ha! If they want to savor my death, LET THEM TRY! I’LL TEACH THEM WHAT IT MEANS TO BE OVERCONFIDENT!” Spouting a perhaps ironic line, Morag grinned and dashed right past where he assumed Marwood would be busy with the axe-fighter towards the other front line, holding his mace-sword-style on his right and preparing to dodge arrows and swing for damage, excited to be facing combat…!

Meanwhile, there was an injured enemy Soldier who was hiding behind the wall intending to let the representatives of Grado pass by, and he breathed out in relief at most of the enemies just rushing by… then his eyes opened in surprise as he felt his lance grabbed, and turning to look at the cause he suffered a thunder-charged punch to the face, causing him to fly backwards without his spear, completely out of commission and down. On the opposite side, an injured Mercenary who was doing the same thing flinched and was reaching to lift his sword to guard in case the same thing happened to him, but a shadowy magical punch from nothing charged out of the ground and hit into his torso from all directions at once straight through his armor, and the man fell out cold to the ground. “… Excuse us.” Aldo muttered with no feelings of remorse in his voice as he rushed past the downed Mercenary whom had just been subjected to Flux.

Oh, and Sion ran over a few more soldiers. Not much left up there… In fact, he’s right at Rioga’s doorstep…

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Ret flicked his hand, loosening his knuckles triumphantly over his fallen foe. Still not realizing he punched someone who was not going to attack them. Glancing back to his comrades behind, he saw aldo using his form of magic. A dark, sinister kind. The type which reminded him of an even more sinister woman. Ret grimaced.

...But their foe was ahead, there was no time for such things. Anyone who would lend their skills and strengths were welcomed. With that notion Ret strode forward, gaze locked onto the overly talkative one they called morag.

In between his hands a crackling orb started to materialize, growing with each incantation mummured in a harsh breath. His fingers clenched. Lightning was nature's fury, to call it - Man must harness man's own anger. Only then is he worthy of wielding such wrath. Ret had no lack of suppressed anger, he just needed something to let it out on. Watching as morag swung his weapon at marwood, he waited for a moment, then as the offender would draw back - he unleashed a lance of electricity straight at him!

"It's gonna be hard to lay a finger on anyone once you're pinned to the wall mate," Archibald said as he slid his finger across the multitude of arrows in his hip quiver. His exposed thumb rapidly tapped across the dozens of nocks as he continued advancing, his one eye peering out from beneath his tattered hood. His gait was measured and his advance inexorable. He was concentrating so hard on Morag that he failed to notice a horseman rush past him until he engaged the eyepatched prick. As he easily sidestepped the clumsy swing, Archibald used that time to quickly nock the arrow and bring the string to his cheek. As soon as the mercenary looked behind him, Archibald's pupils narrowed. He could spot every wart, every pox mark and every scar on the miserable creature's face. He could see the cruel smile hidden under his mask. He could see the slight cateracting of his remaining eye as he turned to judge the horseman. He could spot the fresh pink scar tissue from their last encounter in the Grado woods. He narrowed his eye slits. It would not end there today. As Morag's head started to wrap around again, Archibald fired, the arrow spiralling majestically through the air...followed rapidly by another one at a lower angle...and another one even lower. With almost inhuman speed, the bandit leader was nocking and firing, unaware or perhaps just uncaring of who was behind the wretch.

"I am no friend of yours, royal," Archibald hissed, the final word dripping from his mouth like poison as he drew back another arrow, "your kind are scum to me, living in your decadence while others suffer for your lifestyle." He had no love for the high born given his history, and royals he ranked amongst the worst of the lot. Judging by how much from the larder Darius and Aiph were able to take, they were living quite comfortably. "You're lucky I haven't turned my bow on you yet," he said finally as he took a step back to draw the final arrow. Feathered of raven and cardinal, the arrow's shaft looked wormbitten and rotten, however the head was a completely different story. With backward facing barbs and cruel hooks on them, it was a complete horror of a beast...and it was making its way onto his bow.

Alvin stared Morag straight in the face. "We will pass." He declared with a sense of finality. He saw Marwood charge ahead at Morag, the villain raising his mace in preparation. Alvin brought his lance to bear, using his knees to urge Medea to flight. Her midnight wings flapped as they gained altitude, below he saw the Archer knock an arrow and fire at Morag.

"I am no friend of yours, royal, your kind are scum to me, living in your decadence while others suffer for your lifestyle. You're lucky I haven't turned my bow on you yet."

The archer hissed, Alvin barely heard it but the venom in his voice was clear. If that was the case why was he helping us? He DID almost hit Alvin a couple times with stray arrows. Perhaps he should be more wary of this character, and others rallied to help them. Alvin knew Griswal was behind him, as well as his other companions. So he flew over Morag and dove at the fighter that was assaulting Marwood's flank.
Sure he was bringing a lance against to an axe fight, but he had Marwood there to help him.

Marwood turned his horse just in to dodge the axe blow he gripped the spear closer to the point and stabbed at him. It was weak but enough to give him room to maneuver. "Alvin, I can handle this. Go help the others." He growled and stabbed at the fighter twice, both missing as he rode back. He growled and readied for the fighters attack his horse ready to move and dodge. "You really think you can take me? I beat dozens of bandits tougher than you. Your axe won't save you, barely any of you stand. If you run now I promise I won't chase you... If you don't I promise you will die on the end of a lance." He spoke straight faced staring right at him spinning the lance around him.

Arathyra looked ahead worriedly as yet more fighting began. These next bad guys looked more capable then the other ones. Then as glanced over the group once more, she happened to see a one of their group was injured. She hurriedly rushed over to the Pegasus knight, "Oh no, you're hurt. Please let me help you." She raised her stave and gave a silent prayer, green refreshing light washed over the small cut making it vanish. Arathyra gave a sigh of relief, she was glad she hadn't messed up when she had a chance to be useful. Then she turned her attention to the fighting ahead ready to rush forward and help anyone else who was in need. "Don't worry if you get hurt again I'll fix you right up." she said as words of encouragement.

Morag darted towards Archibald, intending to attack him. His battle-lust overcame him mostly, giving a annoyed wave up at Alvin as he flew over him, but then ignored him and dashed forward. At the time of when he swung around for the first arrow, if either by experience or sheer luck, he'd be ready to dodge the first arrow, grinning at Archibald. However, then he realized there was spell aimed at him. Somehow, Morag was able to step backwards and avoid the blast of lightning, but this meant he was not prepared to dodge the next arrow.

"Gaah...!" Morag cried out, as the arrow hit precisely where Archibald intended it to hit. That one eye Morag still had glared forward in anger at him, and started trying to move forward at him, but another arrow hit. Morag recoiled in pain, but his grip around the weapon in his hand was held as fiercely as ever, he was not giving up. The leader of the Spike Guild tried to forcefully charge through to Archibald, but an arrow met him at every turn, hitting almost exactly where the archer intended them to hit. Morag glared at him and anger and shouted out in anger, an intelligible sound of pain and the annoyance at being held from meeting his opponent, as Archibald loaded the last arrow.

Griswal had intended to stand ready to defend the archer should it have been necessary, but seeing the current state of things it would appear it wasn't necessary.

Lexa would realize that the healer was there for her wound, and show it to her. She'd breathe a small sigh of relief as Arathyra healed her injury. "Thank you!" She'd quickly report, and then turn her attention back to what was happening at hand.

The fighter would grin at Marwood's words, holding his axe forward at him. "How far would you follow your Queen, knight of Renais?" He had apparently, unlike his commander, failed to realize that Marwood was a prince even if he had realized that he was from Renais. Not even waiting for an answer, he'd continue. "That's the same as I feel to Morag!" With that said, the fighter would grab the axe, direct it to his left, and attempt a steep swipe intended to take Marwood off-guard and then possibly continue and also potentially collide with Alvin who was approaching from the fighter's further right. However, the fighter was outmatched in skill here, and his maneuver was unlikely to succeed and him unlikely to survive, even if he had the weapon advantage in this case, his skill not quite equal to that of the two princes.

____________________

Rioga stood up in front of his throne, the Empreror of Grado staring forward with respect as he listened. There was a silence in the hall, dead quiet where there before had been the turmoil of combat, except for the heavy armored footsteps of King Sion treaded into the throne room. The blonde King of Jehanna walked in with confidence, bringing in his majestic aura to bear over the room, looking over the individuals inside the place. To Sion's right Rhodri of the Wheel Guild walked in, a battle-heavy grin of enjoying a good fight coming off as he looked forward towards General Nero, who met him with a stone-hard glare of focus and discipline, holding his sword ready. To Sion's left was his deadly second-in-command, Nethanel, who smiled his usual unreadable smile with a sword drawn, quickly locating his opposition as Garric wandered in with a troubled frown, side turned towards him, blade on guard and ready for combat. The years of experience surrounding these were massive, and the two Grado archers that somehow had found their way here find themselves shaking back a bit.

"I'm surprised." Sion said, looking over how well everyone had chosen their opponents without issue, himself facing directly to Emperor Rioga. "I thought for sure that you would chose the match-ups that would delay us the longest, given how you set up your soldiers as but a shield to keep us away a little longer. Yet I see here that you are, actually aiming for a swift, decisive blow, with the largest chance of victory. I am... intrigued." Sion comments, musing with a little smile as he looked around at the combatants gathered, finally settling his eyes on the grim look of Emperor Rioga, who gave him a smile right back.

"If I defeat you here, then that will be it. Grado will be victorious in one fell stroke. It would be foolish not to bet on such an opportunity." Rioga stepped forward to align with his men, the same way Sion was with his. From his back, Rioga drew forth a great Steel Axe, which he had no trouble wielding, to him it was his dependable partner who had served him well in the past, his comfortable go-to pick that would help him against any level of opponent. "So, Sion. We've often mused about who would have won a straight on combat. Shall we see the answer? Draw your weapon."

Sion replied with a smirk. With a single hand, he then grabbed a handle from its scabbard, drew the weapon, and directed it towards Rioga, who frowned, smile disappearing and a glare took its place on his expression. That odd grip for extra power, that sword sharpened well on that one side of the sword. An odd blade built with the weight of an axe, yet the handling of a sword, built for one purpose only.

"You're... going to fight one of the world's most powerful axe-users... with a Lancereaver?" Rioga did not look amused. He knew better than to let this in any way disrupt his proficiency as a soldier, but the Warrior inside him felt deeply offended all the same. As a sword-user, Sion would have had the natural advantage, and yet he feels like using a Lancereaver, which ineffectiveness against axes is famous? Was he looking for a greater challenge? Did he feel that Rioga was that much beneath him, and gave him a handicap? Sion did not bless the question with an answer, only smiled, a confident and majestic smile of someone who had every ounce of confidence in his choice. Rioga grunted, taking his battle-stance. This wouldn't get to him, he was too good a soldier, but all the same, this annoyed him. "... Very well. Then let's see if your skill matches your actions."

"I intend to prove so. Emperor Rioga... I've been looking forward to this." Sion says with a smile of competence, before the two combatants jumped at each other, and their weapons would clash.

On the side, Rhordi spared no time unleashing the wrath the rage of a Berserker at General Nero, who matched him with every stroke with unyielding precision. On the other side, Garric and Nethanel hadn't even moved yet, both Swordmasters watching each other, Garric with a frown and Nethanel with a blank smile, swords not yet drawn as they were playing mind-games with one another.

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Every jink, every juke and every attempt to dodge by Morag was met by a searing blast of pain as another arrow found its mark. The mercenary leader was starting to resemble a pincushion by now as he stumbled forward, another arrow embedding itself in his thigh, a spurt of blood rushing forth. As he drew back the last shot, the raven and cardinal feathers pressing against his cheek, the archer reconsidered. With heavy, laboured breaths, Morag struggled to even stay standing, collapsing to all fours. His inner demon cackled with joy and a hidden smile appeared under his hair. With his hand still on the bowstring, Archibald slowly stepped closer until he was a single step away from Morag, who tried to lift his heavy morningstar. With an uncharacteristically brutal kick, the bandit leader slammed his bootsole into the mercenary's face, breaking the nose with a loud snap and forcing him onto his back where he struggled weakly to get up.

Pressing his weight down onto his chest, Archibald leaned closer to the pox ridden wretch. "Normally I am not one to kill," he said indifferently as he started to grind his heel into Morag's chest, "but one does not make one of my lads suffer without undergoing similar treatment..." As he leaned further down, his hair finally parted, drifting towards the floor and revealing a ghastly image. A red sclera-ed, bloodshot eye pulsed from above a grisly mess of a face. Where one would expect rosy cheeks were instead replaced with a tangled wreckage of skin and muscle, dominated by the sheer whiteness of bone which seemed to grin menacingly. "If you catch my meaning," Archibald hissed as he ground further down with his heel, eliciting another wince of pain as a rib snapped.

"Boss..." came the whiny, nasal voice of Aiph from behind him. Archibald didn't even so much as look around to him. His underling knew what was happening, but was unsure of how to proceed as he reajusted the weight of the heavy sacks he was carrying. It was then that Darius rounded the corner and grabbed Archibald by his arm. "Archie, remember you oath and your own rules. Do not break conditions of your own covenant," he said with a tug. Shaking him off, Archibald removed the red and black fletched arrow from his bow and placed it on Morag's neck. "You know what this pox ridden wretch did to our comrade," Archibald replied as he applied slight pressure, releasing a pinprick of blood from the almost comatose Morag, "I'm just returning the favour."
"Then will that not make you one of them?" Darius replied, "One who will torture for their own satisfaction?"
"Do not presume that you know all of me Darius..." Archibald replied as he twisted the shaft of the arrow, widening the hole to a steady trickle, "that rule does not apply to scum like this."
"It applies to any living creature, Archie," Darius said firmly as he grabbed Archibald's arm again, "you made the rule yourself. What will your men think if I tell them what you are going to do?"
Archibald looked up as he stared Darius down. Wordlessly, he flicked his hair over to one side and did a final stomp on morag's chest before walking away. "Darius, Aiph. We leave." he said with no chance of argument.

Alvin managed to come in at just the right time to get an axe swung at him, luckily this bandit wasn't particularly skilled and the prince himself was remarkably quick. He heard Marwood's protest at his intervention and could only reply one way. "The others don't NEED my help, that's the issue here. Anyways we're bringing lances to an axe fight so two should make up for it." His logic was shaky at best but still, it would have to do. Alvin gripped his lance with both hands, guiding Medea with his knees and trusting her instincts on where they needed to be.

The wyvern let out a low roar as she took of, flying over the fighter. Alvin took his chance, leaping out of the saddle and landing next to the fighter opposite Marwood lance in hand and poised to strike. "I believe we have you surrounded." The prince informed the bandit as Medea landed on another side, teeth bared and a low snarl resounding through her body.

Marwood turned his steed just in time, as the axe nearly took her head off. She backed away as Marwood prepared to charge in he looked to Alvin joining them. Acting as if he needed help, it irked him but he knew that Alvin simply wanted to protect his friend. Childhood friend until the end after all, he would have done the same he though as Alvin and his mount separated the fighter stood alone.

Marwood sighed at his friend. "Together then, lets kill him and be done." The Renais Prince spurned his horse forward, with him trapped he decided to ride him down and stab through his heart. His mount rushed forward as he shoved the lance down towards the fighter. His mount kicking her feet out at him before turning and riding back to her starting point.

From the experience of having incapacitated Morag, who would be left bleeding and complaining loudly on the floor, writhing in pain and unheard amounts of curses echoing within his angry mouth, Archibald grew to Level 5.

The fighter was indeed surrounded, but nevertheless stood his ground. That proved to be his last mistake, as stepping to attempt to face both combatants resulted in his immediate demise, Marwood running him through and the individual left unable to fend for himself any further.

Prologue, Chosen for a Mission - Map Cleared

With the exit freed, the group would be free to escape to further reaches. The individuals would be free to make any closing remarks before heading out with all haste. The immediate outside of Grado Keep would prove itself to be heavily surrounded by Jehannan troops on the eastern side, as such the most sensible route of escape would be west at least until relative safety, after which a change of plans could be considered.

Grado Keep was placed somewhat on top of a hill, but with multiple descents possible. To the immediate west was a road deeper into the nation, with the capital town visible there. To the north-west and south-west of the road where woods, which most likely would be the safest path to escape, assuming you knew your way. To the east were cliffs and forts to keep enemies out, but Jehannan troops had been able to secure those. What was important now was to decide what to do now, and who to turn to.

"There are Jehannan Guilds spread throughout Grado, as a result of our military being insufficient to cover all areas of our large nation from monsters. Guilds who answer directly to King Sion." Aldo would comment, a bit of distaste audible in his voice. "We are going to need to head out with a destination in mind, however, it would be of great assistance if we could move on less known paths. Perhaps we could use the help of someone who is more experienced in using these routes." Aldo would leave that hanging, giving a glance towards the people who'd probably be expected to hightail now that they were out of danger, the three were-criminals over there that had assisted in their escape. Of course, there was no place for Aldo to make any such decisions, but that was his take.

"If you wish to deliver a message anywhere, let me know! I could have it delivered as quickly as need be!" Lexa would inform them, a bright smile on her lips as she'd inform them about the use of a high-speed flying horse that isn't necessarily needed to stick with the party.

"There. You have successfully been escorted to safety." Habit would say with a little bow to what he knew as the radiant goddess which he didn't know was called Arathyra. He'd then make a dramatic turn towards the outside world. "I will leave you with these men, now. Perhaps our roads will cross again, most fair of maidens." With all likelihood, as he was on a quest to steal the Fire Emblem, but for the moment this was too dangerous a spot for a thief to suddenly be found within talking distance of the nobles as a potentially suspicious individual, and as such he felt the need to be on his way.

As the unlikely alliance cleared the castle exit, Archibald signalled back for Darius and Aiph to hold fast. Pullin ghis hood tighter across his head, he started to climb up a rise, shielding the majority of his face from sight. As his eyes crested the lip of the hill, they beheld a grim sight. Light shined off of sharpened weapons while banners were held high and waved by hooting Jehannan mercenaries. Small isolated pockets of the Grado keep garrison had either surrendered or were surrounded, about to be butchered. All in all it was not a pretty sight. Archibald's eye narrowed. While he was not one for royalty, he did feel bad for these men. They were probably honest soldiers trying to make a living, about to die due to another of their nation's petty disputes. He glanced back towards the other escapees.

"Darius, Aiph, we take our leave now," he said with all the finality of a death sentence. Nodding simultaneously, the two fell into step behind Archibald, who was already striding away towards the south western woods. A voice stopped him in his tracks just before he entered the forest's humid embrace. Ge paused for a second. Turning around, he lifted up an arm with an open hand, before clenching it into a fist and dropping it down quickly. With a rustle, nearly a dozen humans revealed themselves from camoflague. Two of them loosened their nocked arrows while the others put away their axes, blades and crude spears. "I owe you NOTHING, imperials," Archibald said, his characteristic sardonic smile reappearing on his face. Two women dropped out of the trees behind Archibald, "In fact, Jehanna would probably pay highly for the heads of everyone here after our little sortie." In response, arrows were drawn and weapons ready again. Shrugging with an exasperated sigh, the bandit shook his head, "but in honour of our newfound camraderie, I'll let you guys leave in peace," he said with a sarcastic bow, before turning heel and walking away, signalling for his entire band to leave.

Arathyra frowned as Habit left, she really would've liked it if the charming man could've stayed. No doubt he had his own troubles to deal with and had simply been dragged into this. She was dragged out of her musings my Archibald announcing their departure. At first he looked like he was going to attack them and she could've cried but then he said he would leave them alone. She thought about what Aldo had said and chased after them several steps and raising her hand. "Um, Sir? Could you maybe show us how best to get out of here. I think there's still bad guys around. I know you don't seem to like us very much but could you do this one laast thing for us?" She asked hopefully her purple eyes staring at him pleading. "If you want I can even give you my staff, I bet it'd sell for a lot in the right place. And if even that's not enough, then... then..." She took a deep breath. "I'd work for you as a healer, I know I can't do that much but surely I could help at least little. Please just don't leave us out here without any idea where to go." Arathya pleaded with her sudden outburst, perhaps she was being a bit drastic but she genuinely believed this man could help them. And if she could get him to help it'd probably do more good than whatever she would do sticking with the group. He couldn't be that heartless could he, even after she offered him gold and even her own service?

The prince of Renais did not like working with bandits, however he also knew this lot had proven useful to have some morals, more then mercenaries they had faced at least. However he could not force them to fight alongside, so he looked to Alvin. He also spoke as to voice his idea as to where they should go next. "Alvin, we can cut through Renais and up into Frelia... Perhaps even gain aid from some of my knights along the way. Frelia is a free nation and we both have close ties to the kingdom. We can ask them from aid, my brother is also an option. My mother however would never take any official action, I might even get disowned for this little stunt." He grinned at his friend.

Marwood paused a moment. "Who did kill more back their? Don't count her kills as yours." He said pointing to Alvins mount. "She's twice as smart three times more lethal than you are." He said picking fun at the prince of Grado. Boys would be boys after all and nothing could change that. "So Alvin what do you think? Northwest into Renais and then into Frelia, avoid the soldiers around your own country or do you have your own idea on where we should travel to protect that treasure you carry." He asked petting his horse.

Alvin stepped in front of his little band as the bandits and their leader made to leave. "You're right, you owe me nothing. It is I who owe all of you. I am in your debt for your assistance thus far, and I will ask no more of you." The young prince got very concerned when the leader started talking about handing them over, but he seemed to talk himself down. "I am grateful, we shall trouble you no further." And then his healer, Alvin couldn't quite remember her name she was such a shy girl, spoke out offering her services to the bandits.

"I don't think that'll be necessary my lady," He addressed Arathyra with his signature diplomat voice, only Marwood would catch that though. In any case if they lost their only healer the group would be in a very bad position and Alvin couldn't let that happen, too much was riding on their success. "I've been traipsing these woods my whole life, hunting, playing games, I know my way out. We need not impose on these people any longer."

Marwood then chimed in, directly looking to Alvin with his ideas on what they should do. "Passing through Renais and into Frelia is likely the smarter move, whether or not your family will disown you they won't leave you to the wolves. And I'm certain Natalia could talk her father into granting us asylum. Still, I don't want to risk the very real possibility that Sion will invade whatever country he find us in, the last thing I want is to put your family and Natalia at risk." If Sion tore apart Renais and Frelia chasing him, if his friends died for him, Alvin wasn't sure his conscious could bear it, could even bear the thought of it.

Alvin took a pause to think. Unfortunately they didn't really have any money so Carcino wasn't really an option. Besides, if Alvin remembered correctly Carcino and Jehanna were close in trade and politics. In fact they bore a very symbiotic relationship, there was no guarantee the council wouldn't hand him over to Sion as soon as he got there. No, that wouldn't work. Rausten was a possibility, in fact he doubted Sion would search so close to home. However, everything he's heard of Edan describes a rather weak willed young man who bows to everything his adviser tells him, not innately bad but potentially fatal for Alvin and his group. Especially if the one really in charge is allied with Sion.

The young prince let out a heavy sigh, planting his face in his right hand. He felt so tired, like a waning candle after being lit for hours. It was only after he caught Marwood's remark that he seemed to flare back up. "I always count hers as mine! We're connected, two parts of the greater whole." As misplaced as it was he needed the levity, it kept him from falling to far into his thoughts. With another sigh Alvin turned to Lexa. "I need you to deliver a message to Princess Natalia. I need you to tell her what has happened here and that I desperately require her aid. Tell her I seek asylum, and give her this to serve as proof of my identity." With that he took off his silver, signet ring that served as his personal seal and gave it to her. It was a shield flanked by a pair of wyvern wings, he had it ever since he was a boy and he was sure Natalia would recognize it immediately. "Don't try and find us after you deliver the message, because you'll fail."

That done he turned to the rest of his band. "We make for Frelia along the western coast. Instead of passing through Renais, we lie low and travel safely until we reach Frelia." He looked each member of his party in the eye before continuing. "You are all free to leave at any time, this is my burden, and I am willing to carry it alone. I will force you to go no further then you're willing to go."

Marwood shook his head at that. "Alvin I have to press this once again, let us detour through Renais. I have traveled the backroads and old passes, if we move through them we can avoid fighting. If we pass though your own country with it's larger cities we risk more peoples homes, more deaths, and more time." He sighed bring his horse to canter alongside him. "Renais is very sparsely populated, the villages we would pass would only think it was me out riding the country side." He looked at them all.

"Your face is not well known in my country, we could play you off as a mercenary for Carcino. Sion does not know I was here more importantly traveling through Grado put us in all the more danger." He looked at the others with them. "I ask that you let me guide you through to Frelia, we could arrive a day or two sooner and Sion would not risk invading Renais and then Frelia. His forces are strong but not strong enough to face down two countries one after another. My mother would see Renais safe as would my brother." He smiled at Alvin.

Then Marwood shuddered and looked down towards his saddle bags. "Beside's, my mother would offer to marry me to princess Rafeala before war would happen." He shivered again just saying those word. "Sion would obviously agree to it... After all it would mean Renais was his ally and his daughter would be happy... Though I may just jump to my death off the cliffs of Frelia if that happens." He said in sad voice. "Still, Renais will be okay. Your a brother to me Alvin, please let me take you though the safety of my own homeland a place where you can relax. We don't need to travel though Grado stirring up battles, a lot of innocents will get hurt and the cities could be destroyed." He stated, he thought to mention Alvin's father but he would wait to hear his reaction first.