"You would be wise not to speak for me," The wilder began, pausing to adjust his footing accordingly, trusting Robert as little as he trusted this new addition - the woman - "at least if you desire a long life."

The demeanor the Druid of the Fang carried with him had no love of Robert, least of all his "gold and glory" persona and the overly ornate sword he bore. The man, like Roanoke, was everything the wild man loathed the civil folk for.

The grasp around the old blade adjusted faintly but visble enough for the entire lot to see. "Our enemy is powerful and numerous... prone to whisper words of our supposed 'doom'."

"Either she will explain her actions or pay accordingly for her intentions."

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