"I've never been much of a bard, or any manner of person to bestow titles, but I will see what I can do." Thurin said gruffly, nodding. His large hands rested upon his Axe head. The haft of the weapon resting upon the ground. Thurin didn't bother looking around warily. He had taken the measure of all his companions from when he first gazed upon them. Some of them seemed formidable, and others less so. Only time would tell, and he doubted anyone here was fool enough to start trouble in the presence of a wizard (or a tired and cranky Dwarf for that matter!)

"Aye." he spoke after the man did. "My own horse is even more weary than I am, and we have been traveling many leagues to answer the summonings of yon letter, Master Wizard. If he can be seen to the stables with some warmth and food, I would be more liable to listen without complaint." His words sounded like a pronouncement, hard and sure of himself. Until he added "...and more cake if at all possible."

”Do not worry, your animals will not suffer any harm; I'll contact the stables, make sure they tend to them well. As I have said, we are in haste.” He rose and the fires flickered behind him. Having glanced through the window and drawn the curtains darkening the room, he gestured for all of them to get closer, and spoke.

”Before all else, I must tell you that you are free to decline this invitation at any time. It is not my intention to force you to do it; that would be catastrophic for both you and me. It will be perilous, terrifying, and tiring. A long journey up north, where only the wind now lives. You might starve, get torn apart by wolves the size of a horse, slip and fall into the chasms of those mountains peaks of which you can scarcely see from here. Or, worst of all...” he said with a deathly face, and as if to highlight the terror of his words turned with some subtle spell the room around them into a cube of swirling black flames and tormented screams, an illusion of some cruel sort, ”...be caught by Him!” The room turned back to normal after he ceased talking.

Turning his back on them, he went on. ”The birds that still dare fly there are whispering of a sorcerer, an unnatural creature corrupted by the Shadow, up there in the frozen wilderness. A man of great power. He has build a fort, guarded by orcs and goblins, and who knows what else. Not to waste any more time, we are to go there and put his efforts to an end. That is all you need to know to decide what you want to do.”

He turned back towards them and looked at each one. ”I've chosen you because I've seen you do things that I can relate to nothing by positive madness and favors of something far above us. We leave at dawn, so you have time to think about it. Now you must leave me, for I have to prepare.” The wizard reached for the pipe with a smug on his face, but before doing anything with it, he raised his finger in the air. ”I almost forgot! I booked you a place to stay tonight.” He then reached inside his robes and pulled out a set of coins, each marked with a room number, and tossed them to Turambar. ”But unfortunately, as you can see, there were not enough beds for everyone, one is lacking... Two of you will have to share!”

---

Perhaps the others would expect Calariel to take such information in stride, but in truth the young elf was rather overwhelmed by it. She considered herself a humble servant of her people, making honest efforts to keep their modest holdings safe. Certainly not a great warrior of renown, the likes of which seemed necessary for such an undertaking. She'd never faced any great unnatural creatures of shadow before. Orcs and goblins were one thing, but a threat of such unknown power felt beyond her.

Of course, Ofnir seemed to believe in her, and the others, for some reason that she could not discern. That alone was enough to give her some measure of confidence. And despite her own doubts, Calariel's heart was largely set. From the sound of the task alone, she could not refuse. If she did not try to help, then who would? She was not someone who could turn her back on such things, even to preserve herself.

When the wizard asked them to depart, Calariel almost thought to speak, but kept her lips sealed, and turned to be the first one out. She awaited the others, nervously intertwining her fingers together, wishing she could read their faces better at this close a range. As it was, she could barely make out their presence. "I will be accepting the wizard's task," she stated quietly, attempting to make eye contact with a few of the group and probably failing. "If this sorcerer truly exists and commands a dangerous force, I cannot refuse."

Her face reddened slightly, as she shifted her weight around. "As for the rooms... perhaps Ellaryn and I can share a room. I have an extra bedroll and blanket. That is, if all of you are accepting as well." She thought it made most sense for the two girls to pair into a room, and Ellaryn came across to Calariel as pleasant company. Largely harmless, really.

Ellaryn was caught up in Ofnir's words, when the room fell into gloom and torment as he talked about him she could have broke the stool as she gripped so hard. Luckily her strength was not that of a dwarfs. Why would anyone want to risk all that death and mayhem.

She shook her head as the spell ended, it felt a little like she was coming out of a drream and she caught the end of his tale.

” Not to waste any more time, we are to go there and put his efforts to an end. That is all you need to know to decide what you want to do.”

Easy enough, goto big fort and ask sorcerer to stop his shenaningans. No problem.

She went red in the face with the prospect of sharing a room with man (it didn't seem to worry her that they were not hobbits) until Calariel spoke up. her wistful look about the room seemingly at everyone and noone at the same time, it only made Ellaryn believe she was royalty all the more. She got up of the stool and curtsied to the wizard Ofnir.

"I will be pleased to join you and aid you. Thank you for the rooms."

She curtsied again and slowly appoarched the only other female. Her face grew even hotter and her resolve almost faltered but she finally stood at Calariel's knees and gave the biggest slowest curtsey she could.

"I would be honoured that you would be willing to share a room with me your highness. As there is only the one bed, please allow me to take up a small portion of the floor. It has been so long since I have slept inside, that I will not miss a bed and being indoors for the night will be comfort enough."

If Ellaryn was red enough fromt a stranger offering Ellaryn into a place of comfort (and a royal personage at that) she becoame more so as she tried to act as she tried to imitate royalty. Her face burned. She did another slow curtsey. She wished she could sleep in the stables.
@Luminosity

---

He nodded in appreciation to the dwarf, but Vamyr’s attention snapped back to the wizard the instant he began to speak. At the wizard’s gesture, he pushed off the wall and came a few steps closer to the old man. As he spoke, the room around them turned to fire and torture- he moved another step closer to the group, away from the threat.

Vamyr was still digesting the tale when Ofnir tossed him a handful of coins. His eyes glanced slowly down at them, then at the assembled companions. He was grateful, but irony of giving him the coins wasn’t lost on the Gondoran. If no one spoke, then it would be up to him to assign the rooms- which put him at a dilemma. It would be logical to put the two women together, or the Halfling and the Dwarf, as neither would fill a bed, but to suggest either invited offense. He threw a wry look at Ofnir, but was saved the awkwardness by the pale pink eyed elf- who offered to rest with Ellaryn, the Halfling. She graciously accepted, though her mannerism suggested that the elf maiden held a much higher status than he knew. Ofnir had mentioned something of Rivendell. He relaxed, and searched through the coins for the one that was closest to the wizards, and furthest from the stairs, tossing it towards her. ”Thank you.” He flipped the next furthest to the bard, the next to the dwarf, and kept the one closest to the stairs for himself. ”I’ll be in room three, should anyone need anything.”

If what the wizard had said was true, then even the inn may not be safe. As a guardsman, it was his duty to place himself as the first line of defense. If they were attacked in the night, hopefully his would be the first room to be assaulted. Next door would be the dwarf, who looked a worthy fighter by any respect. Vamyr bade the others good night, and quietly left, retrieving his saddlebags from Jack and retreating to his room to prepare.

He carefully organized and repacked his gear before removing his armor and laying it gently in the corner of the room. His sheathed sword lay just under the bed, within easy reach. And then he sat, and pondered. This was a dangerous mission- far beyond him. He was just a guardsman on a long errand, albeit from the borders of Ithilien. Associating with Rangers was not the same as being one, and this quest definitely called for such. On the other hand, he had little to offer to his brethren in the south. Returning would add just one more blade to stand against the tide, and likely another body for the field. Without aid from the north, he had little purpose at all. Here however, he could at least offer assistance…

”Ofnir, the Blue. You have my blade.” He spoke quietly to the empty air, feeling foolish- but the words brought a feeling of determination as well. Vamyr sat for a while longer, thinking, before standing and sliding the tip of his dagger into the crack between the top of the door and the frame. Anyone who tried to open the door would cause it to fall, making a decently loud noise. That done, he dressed down and collapsed into bed, letting the warmth and the feeling of a real bed put him to sleep instantly.

I am late, thought the Hunter, cresting a small ridge close to the edge of the forest north of Angfort. He could hardly see, but was unwilling to light a torch, finding it foolish, considering that he'd soon reach the roads, judging from the weakly flickering beads of light in the distance, which surely must have been his village. He'd been lucky and proud. He caught a nice rabbit, just as he had promised his twin daughters the morning he left, while they still lay in their beds. It hanged on his side, the rabbit, in the bag, a short sword next to it, and a quiver on the flank opposite. A few snowflakes fell, and then more followed, faintly falling upon his red cheeks and the bare tree crowns, the most peaceful of nights. One fell into his eye, and he flinched, cursing. His fingers were stiff: a sign he'd need to wear the winter gloves next time. Then it started raining as well. Raining warm and thick drops. Salty drops, iron drops. The cold winds blew through the trees, the north whispering silently in the dark. His shield of long experience as a hunter and a man born and raised in these lands could not hold against the creeping sense of dread he hadn't felt since the first time his grandfather took him out on a hunting trip. He knelt, the torch now in his hand and sparks cracking above the wet glistening ground. A crow's screech later, the torch was ablaze and in his hand. He spun around quickly, looking at the endless black columns of wood, noticing his wrist shake. Drops fell gently through the crusty surface of the snow patches, leaving tiny dark holes around him, and a red one on his outstretched hand. ”What...” he muttered bringing his hand closer to his eyes, just in time to see the second crimson spot appear on it, then the third, and the fourth... He immediately looked up into the twining branches, where instead of abandoned nests hung against a million of stars slain deer and wild dogs, blood dripping from their wounds. He would have run or screamed, but his throat ached and his vision blurred. He fell into the cold, and the last thing he heard was the flutter of winds and the blood gushing out of his neck.

Wizard magic always put Thurin under an unease that he'd need to sleep off in order to feel better again. He recalled when Gandalf had shown how to turn pine cones into flaming projectiles, and the memory was still fresh over 60 years later. He huffed, and smoothed his beard. At least Ofnir would see to his horse being treated fairly. He let his thoughts dwell upon the mission, however. It seemed perilous and rough. Then again, what worthwhile journey was not?

Taking it all in stride was Thurin's specialty, and he did so with ne'er a complaint. ”I almost forgot! I booked you a place to stay tonight.” The wizard then reached inside his robes and pulled out a set of coins, each marked with a room number, and tossed them to Turambar. ”But unfortunately, as you can see, there were not enough beds for everyone, one is lacking... Two of you will have to share!” Thurin raised an eyebrow at that, and then witnessed the Elf and Halfling's curious display.

Thurin let out a chuckle. Seemed this small folk thought the Elf was a princess. Then he realized, she might be at that! It mattered little to Thurin. As 'matter of fact' as always, he gave a nod. "Me thanks, good Wizard for yer warning and yer room. And glad I am for my companions that I needn't share a room with them." he said, and then looked down, almost embarrassed. "I snore so loud, I wake up my poor horse, you see."

---

"Excuse me, I'd rather sleep under the stars. Do as you want with my bed."

The elf figured he'd need some time to process today's events, and to be honest he didn't trust the villagers to handle his horse right. Swiftly and silently he made his way back downstairs, where most of the patrons had already left or passed out.

---

Calariel's mouth hung open in confusion for a long moment at Ellaryn's response, until she understood just how the hobbit girl had interpreted her. It was a strange realization; to many other elves, her gear was well-maintained but ultimately modest and without an excess of ornamentation, and her mannerisms were quiet, meek even. She was fair of appearance as all elves were, but had never thought herself remarkable at all save for her sight, which she'd always been led to believe detracted from her overall value rather than adding to it. But somehow, she came across as someone of royal standing to Ellaryn, a princess of Rivendell or some such. The idea might've made Calariel laugh if she hadn't been so embarrassed.

"I'm not--" she began, but before she could get the words out a coin tossed from Vamyr hit her lightly in the stomach and fell to the floor. She jumped slightly, quickly crouching down to where it fell and scooping it up, her face steadily growing more red.

---

A short time later, Calariel had returned from making sure her horse was secured for the night, and she'd gathered all of her things, to stay with her up in the room that she'd secured. Finally able to rest, she first removed her bedroll and blanket from her pack and left them at the base of her bed. "If you need to use these, don't hesitate," she offered to Ellaryn, before taking a seat on the bed and beginning to remove her outer layers of gear, starting first with her bracers and gloves, and then unbuckling the hardened leather cuirass.

"I fear you may have overestimated my importance," she said softly, arranging her gear in a neat little pile by the nightstand. "I am no one of great importance in Rivendell, just a simple outrider. I'm only different from my kin because of my sight, and that proves a hindrance more often than a help." She realized Ellaryn might not know what she was referring to. Her blindness she believed was obvious, but how it could ever help was not apparent.

"I can see excellently at a distance, you see, but close around me everything grows blurry. I can hardly make out the shape of you, at our current distance." It probably seemed odd that she was an outrider and scout with such a condition, but then, Calariel had always possessed something of a stubborn streak, and she'd earned her place through hard work and demonstration of her capabilities.

It was a strange reaction for Ellaryn to witness. She raised an eyebrow as Calariel began to speak, she was still red as she realised her royal highness was about to speak to her. Els caught a little of the conversation from the others, she turned slightly as Vamyr spoke and started flicking coins at people. When one hit Calariel in the stomach as she was facing him, Ellaryn was shoked she didn't catch it. She nudged the coin with one toe as the princess knelt to retrieve it.

Ellaryn heard the dward Thurin speak about about him not sharing the room and frowned at him, when he spoke about snoring, Els face broke into a grin. She decided it best to accompany the Elf as she went to depart the meeting.

---

Ellaryn followed Calariel silently as she entered the room, she also had collected her belongings. Though she moved quietly with soft steps, the pots and pans in her bag clunked away. Ellaryn was gratefull for the offer of the bedroll, but it didn't seem right to accept it to her.

"It is most knind of you, but I must decline."

Ellaryn could have used the extra warmth for the night, but she didn't want to get used to comforts. She paused and tried to explain, and finallly gave up dropping her equipment in a plie at the corner. Ellaryn gave her gear a kick and turned as Calariel spoke about her royalty. She stood amazed as she realised what her regal gaze actually meant, and once more a blush crept uipon her face at not only her mistake but the pure look of the elf maidens skin.

Ellaryn slowly peeled her own outer garments away, revealing far too many tiny scars that covered her arms. She hugged herself, there were more and some not even visible.

"The mistake was mine, at least you have found acceptance through your hard work."

It made her think of her own actions and the road she now travelled.

"I'd guess an early start for the morning, your bow is going to very useful over my skills. Ofnir chose us all for a good reason, and I do aim to....see this through."

She was almost going to share her past with Calariel, but instead gathered up her blanket and laid down on the floor near the fireplace.

"Sleep well....princess."

---

Ellaryn awoke in the small hours of the night feeling exposed, her eyes adjusted to the poor light before she quietly picked her blanket up and moved on padded feet to a more hidden area of the room. She picked up offered bedroll, and used it as a pillow. There was a rumour that the Elves had superior senses, and Ellaryn wasn't sure if Calariel was awake or not. Stil she found herself in a much more safer location by sleeping under the bed.

@Luminosity

Nora closed the stable doors behind her, and lowered the bar to secure them. Picking up the bucket with a sigh, she made way towards the well, just behind the inn. The wind gently brought tiny snowflakes all over her reddening face. She tossed the bucket into the blackness of the well in which stars were mirrored, hearing the splash ring and echo between the shaft walls. She left it fill, remembering how she used to fill it with her father when she was but a child, weak to even carry the empty bucket. Then she pulled it back up, her lower back starting to ache after a full day of hard work. Nevertheless, she brought the bucketfull of water up, spilling only a bit over her fingers. She wiped her forehead off cold sweat with her sleeve, and went back around the stables. The horses withing neighed nervously, banging their the walls with their heads and stirring the hay with their hooves. Nora knocked on the stable wall thrice, whispering: ”Easy!”

From in front of the inn she could see the crossroads where that poor old lunatic hung the day before.
Poor fellow... I guess that's what you get for stealing a wizard's staff. I would have turned him into a swine.
She looked at the sky, took a deep breath. Lovely night. I wonder what happened to him. He ain't in the cage no more.
She rubbed her hands on her apron and picked the bucket up. When she reached the inn door, she turned around to a whisper behind her back. The bucket fell down, the icy water spilling over her feet. But after a moment she didn't feel cold. She turned, silent and grave-faced, slowly right into the inn, ushered by the night that followed her inside and lingered at the open door. A drop of cold blood from her mouth fell on her bosom, and then she collapsed at Aelin's feet, frigid and lifeless.

---

Aelin was really caught off guard by this, but managed to keep his thoughts calm and rational. His first reaction was to kneel down next to the girl and find out what her situation was. With a worried look on his face, the elf placed his hand on her forehead.

Cold and lifeless, as I feared..

After whispering a few words in Sindarin - Something that sounded like a prayer or a short poem - He stood up and rushed behind the counter and towards the backroom, hoping to find the innkeeper there.

What is it that could have gotten her? And by the Valar, I hope my Valko is alright..

The hunter slouched into the village. After him, following the few drops of blood left in the hunter now dripping from his neck onto the ground, soon came the man from the cage, cadaverous and purple necked, where something had strangled him. Silent, they dragged their feet slowly towards the inn, unhindered and unnoticed by the sleeping folk. A stray dog followed them, eyeless and gored, no steam rising from his snout. The hunter held his sword in his hand, so cold, frost clinging to the steel; and the caged lunatic dragged a chain that left a snake-like trail on the snow layer behind him. When they entered, another was waiting for them, standing still, a girl seemingly alive, but with deep blue lips to remind of her death. The fires in the room waned, the windows fogging up, and a smell of the morning dew in the air. The hunter left then and went up the stairs, one squeaking step at a time, until he came to a door. Two of them he -- or his master through him -- sensed inside, one of them immortal. Steadily, the hunter withdrew his hand from the knob, and turned around, choosing the room of someone mortal to be the first he visits. He went for the one closest to the stairs, where what felt like a man slept. He grabbed the knob and turned, setting off a loud clamour of a dagger falling onto the floor in the middle of the night. The hunter's flaming silver eyes widened, as the one who controlled him realised his victims were not as dumb as he'd hoped.

Down stairs, the other dead ones turned their heads to the stairs, summoned to aid the hunter, while from the outside unforeseen gusts of wind pummeled the walls of the inn stronger than ever before.

The Dwarf had yet to fall asleep, still getting comfortable after his long and weary trek. He had done a few stretches, and taken off his sturdy boots before reaching into his pack to get his pipe, before realizing that he'd lost it on the hike through the mountains. He grumbled at his blasted luck, and heard the stairs creaking as someone approached. He figured it was some fool drunk who hadn't yet made it into his chambers at this late hour.

He decided to have a hearty meal before sleeping instead, and chowed down on his trail rations as he heard some feet dragging along the hallway past his door. Seemed like something metallic was rattling across the ground too. Thurin huffed "bloody drunkards." he muttered to himself, and bit down on his meat and potatoes, eating happily. His thick stomach having been deprived of food for too long. He burped, and then heard many footsteps creaking from downstairs. What, was this a party?

The dagger hitting the floor from across the hall caused the Dwarf to fly out of his room not seconds later, Axe in hand. "HA! KNEW THERE WAS SOMETHING FISHY GOING ON!"

Her eyes flew open with the clatter of the falling knife and a shout from Thurin the Dwarf across the way. Ellaryn laid still making sure the noise wasn't directed at something she had done, then she slowly moved from under the bed and gently laid a hand on the Elf above.

"Calariel there's trouble." She whispered to her.

Ellaryn moved and started collecting her gear together before she remembered, she was in a group on a quest now. She cursed under her breath, decided to pull on clothes and grab her short swords. Not entirely sure whether to flee and defend the place, she looked for a place to conceal herself incase Princess Calariel was attacked.

It wouldn't do to have their best bowman injured.

---

The clatter of the knife brought Vamyr out of his sleep with a sharp snap, and he sat upright, gazing at the door for a second in the darkness. Then he could smell the blood, coldness seeping into the room and raising the hair on his body. The air hissed, and he swiftly rolled off of the bed just before a shortsword rammed its way through it. On contact with the floor he rolled under the bed and kicked up and towards the attacker as hard as he could, sending the wooden frame, straw mattress, and flesh into the wall with a bang.

"Wake up!" Vamyr picked up his sword from the floor and approached the struggling mess of the bedframe and bedding, drawing the blade slowly. He took the dragon guard stance, reversed grip with the blade trailing behind him, and hesitated. If this was just a thief, to strike would be unjust murder. The other man struggled free of the bed and sheets, and Vamyr grimly tightened his grip. "Drop your weapon!"

When his opponent mutely lunged, Vamyr grimaced and struck obliquely upward, feeling his blade pass into flesh and stop with a sickening crack at bone. He immediately stepped back, and watched with horror as the monster bent over and picked up the sword in its other hand. Turambar took another step back, hitting the wall, as it stepped closer, not a drop of blood leaking from its mangled arm.

Vamyr waited, and when it struck again he raised his blade, binding them at the hilts and kicked off the wall to heave his opponent back into the beds debris pile. "Where is that blasted wizard?"

Vamyr turned and swiftly kicked his packed bag through the door to the room, scooping up the dagger and swordsheath on the way out, slamming the door and holding it shut from the hallway.

"Thurin! I could ki-" A glance down the stairs turned him white. "Ye wouldn't mind lending me a hand here, or an axe would ye?" He jerked as the corpse in his room tried to yank open the door. "Have ye seen anyone else?"
@POOHEAD189

---

Unfortunately the innkeeper was nowhere to be seen, and Aelin found himself standing in the tavern's kitchen. Alone.

Oh, if only this town's guards saw me now.. Just how easy would it be to blame the girl's murder on a traveling musician?

He figured the wizard was probably the person he should talk to, so he turned around and returned to the main room - Only to find out the corpse had vanished while he'd been away. Had someone taken it?

Anyways..

Aelin was fully on guard as he climbed the stairs. This whole place was giving him the creeps now, it no longer felt like the lively and happy bar he'd walked into a few hours earlier. The overwhelming silence. And the.. Cold?

As soon as the elf entered the second floor's corridor, he saw death itself. And death looked back. Some evil force, possibly the one Ofnir had talked about, had turned these poor people into terrifyig, lifeless beings.

Aelin pulled out both of his knives, gesturing the dead to keep their distance. He wasn't exactly sure what to do, and decided to call the wizard.

"Ofnir!"

I see you...

The hunter, stalled and trapped in the room and pummeling the door, changed tactics as soon as the rest of the dead started coming up the stairs. He 'saw', he 'knew' through the senses of his comrade dog that the man was holding the door, and that the dwarf was coming to his aid. All he had to do was prevent the man from leaving the door and joining arms with his friend. He jammed his blade between the door and the door frame and moved it slowly back and forth, chips of wood falling down at his feet.

First came the eyeless dog, covered in dirt and gore, teeth sharp as daggers. It walked clumsily, then picking up the pace, went towards he dwarf. The force that moved it was obviously not used to controlling quadrupeds, but was getting a hand of it. Behind it were seen Nora, the innkepeer's daughter, and the one who gave them directions, slowly approaching; but then the two of them turned their heads away as soon as a musical elven voice called out: "Ofnir!"



The door of the wizard's room splintered into countless pieces and through it came flying across the hall in a white flash the shape of the innkeeper, knocking the dog in its way, and stopping at the feet of his now dead daughter and the crazy man Ofnir had caged for his thievery, now gravely silent. Nora, or simply her empty shell, turned towards her father's body, but the other man faced the coming minstrel again, and, waving his chain, attacked him. Nora slowly lowered, touched her father's forehead, and his eyes glowed silver and cold again. He rose next to her, both now facing the wizard come out of his room, wrathfully looking at them in disgust. The dog got up again, unscathed.

"Foul creature! Leave the dead in peace!" he yelled, pointing his birch staff at the enemies. Its end flashed, and the dead backed away from the light, emotions now seen in their eyes for the first time. Ofnir saw fear projected onto them from afar. "Vamyr, hold the door! Thurin, to me! Quickly!" A great worry came over the anger on Ofnir's face. "Aelin, careful!" he said. "And where are the other two of ours?!"

Barefoot but still clad in his leathers, Thurin ruffled his beard and approached, Axe gripped tightly in his fist. "Shoulda known such luck would find me in such an accursed place as this." he said aloud, striding towards the Wizard. He gave a salute to Vamyr with his Axe as he passed, then pointed at the door he was holding with his free hand casually. "Ye got something sawing through the wood there." he said, nonchalantly as if pointing out that Vamyr had a cowlick.

The Dwarf made it to the Wizard, and only slowed a slight margin due to the light. He'd not seen Wizard magic in many a year. It always made him feel a bit uneasy. "Hold 'em down, Ofnir." he said, stopping before the dog. "Chew on this." His Axe clove through the dead dog's skull, brains and bone fragments scattering from the force of the blow. He kicked the animated corpse down and passed it, hacking at the Innkeeper and Nora, humming a battle tune taught to him by Gloin many years ago.

---

Calariel was awake before Ellaryn's hand touched her shoulder, immediately aware that something was amiss. More than what she could hear, she could just sense something wrong around her, something foul and wicked. Instantly any drowsiness left her features, and she was alert. She mentally chastised herself for sleeping deeply at all, for expecting that any place this far north would be safe to rest.

While Ellaryn started to collect her gear Calariel threw her sheets off and slipped into her leggings. Judging by the sounds outside their door, there wasn't any time to get into her armor. She supposed she'd need to sleep in it from now on. Warily, she grabbed her bow and quickly slung her full quiver across her back, before buckling on her belt, with the dagger sheathed at the back.

"There's fighting outside," she said, nearly at a whisper. "I can't see very well at all inside here." It was frustrating to admit, but Ellaryn needed to know the situation as it was. If whatever was outside got in, Calariel wouldn't be able to fight it very effectively.

Ellaryn turned as Calariel whispered, she raised one finger to her lips as she inwardly slapped herself. Calariel had already told her about her eyesight and her current thoughts were to flee this place, surely the innkeeper wasn't so bad as to fight his up after Els had had so much free food.

She listened at the door, hearing the fighting outside. Good she thought, Vamyr and Ofnir were there, and there's Thurin joining in. Aelin was outside somewhere, needed a mental note to find him. She turned and gestured to the window, waving Calariel to go and scout whatever was outside. It didn't seem that anything was very close to their room or at least any attention was focused away from it.

Ellaryn in a quiet but rushed state of vacating the inn, quickly checked and gathered any and all remaining gear, while no attention was on the room itself. It wouldn't do to leave anything they would leave behind that they would need.

Bilbo's coffers, what did that girl pack away. Ellaryn cringed at the weight and made her way to the window to pass Calariel her belongings.

"Sounds like Ofnir forgot to pay the bill." whispered Ellaryn.

Calariel found the window mostly fogged over when she tried to peer outside, and proceeded to wipe a space she could look through. She listened to the sounds of struggle beyond their room all the while, eventually hearing Ofnir himself question their location.

"We’re in here!” she called out, still trying to peer out the window. More quietly, she spoke to Ellaryn. "Can you get the door? I think they’re handling things out there. I’ll keep a watch for anything coming.”

Ellaryn rooled her eyes upwards when Calariel called out."Here's your gear before you lose it." she proceded to hand Calariel her own gear to her. "Bad idea," she mumbled to herself, but perhaps there was safety in numbers.

Ellaryn moved back to the door and the sounds of fighting, making sure she had one sword in hand, she took a deep breath before opening up and stepping to one side, read for whatever lay outside in the corridor.