Arnack lay under the weight of his trusty pony for what seemed like forever the beast was out cold. He wondered if he’d ever be free of the weight, not only of the pony but of the trust Lasair had placed upon him. They hadn’t even had a chance to fight the Necromancer, how would they ever catch him, let alone kill him. Finally as he pondered the group’s fate a man came to his aid. The one who came from the sky all but unnoticed in the pandemonium. 

“It seems you’ve landed yourself in quite the predicament.” The man said, Arnack wasn’t sure if he sensed a little humour in his words. “Here we go, I’ll lift and you push. Together now, 1, 2, 3!” Arnack pushed with all his might, aided by the man, he wriggled free and knelt rubbing his numb legs back to life.

As he did so he observed his saviour who wasn’t actually a human at all. His grizzled features and scars marked him as a warrior, but his skin was dotted with odd flecks of what looked like purple crystals. Arnack wracked his brain trying to remember the lessons he learnt only a year ago, which now seemed so long ago. He struck upon the information after a short time and said, “I thank you Keeper, I did not land in that predicament, it landed on me,” he laughed. Standing he held out his hand once again and said, “Arnack of the Slayers, we fight for much the same thing in different ways.” 

Arnack glanced around observing the scene, a few of them had been injured in small ways, the Keeper had a gash on his cheek and a girl he hadn’t noticed before was receiving healing from the bird-woman. The Point of Origin itself looked like it was the site of an explosion. He wondered what all the scholars and holy men would think of such desecration.