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"Leon, leon..... yeah, that's fine, we'll come with you that far, but who is this friend?" Dietrich said.
Rufus looked at Dietrich with a strange expression. He didn't quite understand what his friend was on about.
"You'll find out when we get there lad."
Morangul heard the voices.
Oh yes, he heard the voices; and no, he didn't see anyone.
Too bad Morangul wasn't in the mood for mind games.
"I've had enough surprises for now! First it was nature-loving elves, and now its disembodied voices!
You will reveal yourself, whether you like it or not!"
And with that, Morangul brought forth another fireball into his hand, which he tossed straight up in the air.
It detonated 20 feet above them, bathing the nearest trees in flames, and lighting the whole area.
Morangul was quite shocked at what he saw.....
Alaria quickly shouted out in an incomprehensible language, and the horses skidded to a halt, surprising both the man and the woman.
"You haven't told me what a dwagon is yet," Alaria mumbled.
"It doesn't matter, no-one's seen one in a hundred years!" Alyssa shot back, angrily. She gave a short wail which shocked both the fey and Guantano, and before they had blinked, an arrow was pointing at Alaria and Alyssa was again in control of her horse, spurs at the ready. "If you want companions, you need to treat them better than this." She nodded towards her horse. "And if you're looking for a horse to steal you've walked into the wrong couple. We could chop you to mutton before you could object. Now get out of my way or explain yourself, properly. Then, I might answer your questions!"
The arrival of the elf-like creature had thrown their plans for a quick get-away, and Guantano had to grip the reins tightly to avoid losing his balance. Well aware of the fire balls flying through the air behind them, and suspicious of the whole situation, Guantano followed suit and drew his sword. "Be quick about this elf, if you wish to distract us for an ambush you would be sorely mistaken." With an arrow at her throat, and a sword ready to dice her up, Alaria looked distinctly uncomfortable.
...because Morangul saw nothing at first. That is, nothing but trees and that the fire spell, although it did light the area, wasn't quite as bright as the Lich remembered it to be. While he was still wondering about that he heard the voice right behind him.
"I'm right here."
Both Morangul and the Borian spun around and saw the red clothed figure that rode past them on the giant's shoulder a few hours back, standing right next to their campfire. His sharp eyes narrowed on Morangul again and again the Lich felt as if they were piercing right into his soul. "I know who you are, Lich, and soon Lord Vayne will know too."
Tawariell remained sceptical as the druid explained his desire, his wish to truly become one with nature in all her beauty; she knew what he meant, her own life having been devoted to such pursuits since her departure from Aeglerona, but she couldn't find a way to explain the bond that she and Raina had formed over the years without frustrating him further.
"I'm afraid that I cannot give you what you seek, taur'amandil," she responded softly, "I believe that the bond Raina and I share is unique."
She turned her attention northwards, her gaze falling upon Leon once more; the town's walls had since been surrounded by the army and were buckling under the strain of the assault, and yet Tah momentarily found herself admiring the tenacity of the town's defenders, before reminded herself that they were humans and had probably earned themselves whatever hardship they were currently facing. She shook her head solemnly.
"It would appear that there was some truth in the abomination's words."
And still the Lord of Leon was standing atop the gatehouse, immovable and unmoved. The defeat was certain. Leon had no means to answer such an attack, there were no siege engines or weapons that could retaliate at this range. After all, the army that was supposed to protect the lands of Lassara was facing them out there. The ones whose aid they would seek in the case of an attack were the attackers. Perhaps it would have gone different if they had dared to sally. Perhaps they could have surprised the enemy, taking out their long range weaponry and forcing them into a siege. Perhaps they could have waited for help to come in this event but Nias made no such move. He stared at the enemy lines right until the end, right until suddenly he felt a stinging pain in his side and reached down, only to see his hand covered in blood, his own blood. He looked to his side and saw his captain, the commander of his forces had turned on him. There were no last words as the lifeless body hit the floor and right away the captain gave orders to wave the white flag and offer surrender. Moments later the attack had stopped and two satisfied demons were leading the Lassaran army into the broken city of Leon. And so ended the short reign of Lord Nias, ruler of Leon.
This was it. This was the moment Frijyk had been waiting for. He was now face to face with one of the demons who he had seen before, the same demons who had driven his people into hiding. He had not expected it to come so soon. He was not ready yet. But he could not shirk the opportunity. He kept his sword raised, but he extinguished the flame in his left hand and spoke to the demon, who had its attention turned to Morangul at the moment.
"Demon! Tell me, how long have you served this Vayne?"
Alaria looked confused for a moment, and then a hint of annoyance began to creep into her eyes. "Fine then," Alaria muttered. "I'll find out some other way."
Alaria waved her hand towards the two people in front of her... and then vanished.
Annoyed the demon turned his gaze towards the Borian and shook his head, like an elderly man who had to correct a young child.
"I was not talking to you, youngling, and you should be thankful that I do not see you as a threat. Now stay out of this and let us more experienced talk. You cannot even imagine the time I have spent serving Lord Vayne and I would assume you judge the one you're travelling with as a much younger being than what he is. He's actually much older than he looks, even though that's hard to believe." A loud chuckle escaped the demon's throat and he returned his attention to Morangul. "Now listen, Lich. I would suggest you stay out of our affairs as even you do not understand what you are facing. Find a place to live, outside of our sphere of interest, I hear northern Tarania is a nice place for someone who doesn't really feel the cold."
Alyssa lowered her bow. "We should continue, I don't want to linger here in case what it said about huge creatures turns out to be true." They spurred their horses and continued south. Alyssa shook her head, "this really is the strangest of times," she said.
Sheathing his sword, Guantano nodded, and the pair made their way with added haste south, eager to move away from where the elf might be. The afternoon sun shone brightly in the sky, and Guantano raised a hand to wipe the sweat from his brow. They would take a breather once they had gotten some distance on the army at Leon.
"Oh, I know very well what I am facing, dog of Vayne! Run home to your master,
tell him that Morangul has returned, and to expect the bite of a Shard Weapon upon his neck!"
And with that, Morangul cast a bolt of lightning at Irigo, which was easily dodged by the demon.
"Fool!" The demon snarled, "You could have been spared destruction, but now you will be crushed like everyone else!"
Morangul laughingly replied, "I'd like to see you try! Now begone!"
And with that, the demon vanished, making the area much brighter, as if a
shade had been removed from the burning trees. In the distance, Morangul and Frijyk
hear the crashes of the demon's giant companion begin to move again.
Morangul quickly put the fires out, turned to Frijyk, and said, "We shall stay here for the night;
we can easily follow their trail in the morning."
Alain nodded at Dietrich and while he got up he replied: "Rufus is right, you'll see when we get there. Now I think you should try to get some sleep. We will be riding all day tomorrow and Rufus, you're up holding watch after midnight."
Most of the camp lay in silent talk, the two guardsmen were eyeing the stranger and Rufus, probably discussing what danger came from them and Alain just got up and walked over to them and Drax. Only Glungurd was sitting next to the fire with no one to talk to until the princess sat down next to him.
"Thank you for your company today, Glungurd. I know it must have been a hard day for you, riding for the first time." She smiled and looked at the Odglok, "I haven't answered your question before but to be honest, it's hard to explain. I have to care for my people. As princess it is my place to lead them and make sure they are doing well. Now someone else wants to take that place and I fear he will try to harm them more than help them and since I am still the princess, he wants to kill me, because only then he will be able to really take my place."
***
In the middle of the night one of the sailors entered the cabin they had brought Thomas in to rest and woke up Gilford. "Master knight! You'll want to see this." With that he ran out again and Gilford slowly got up from his seat, next to Thomas' bed and went out. The night was red and in the distance they saw the flames where once was Tar Cantun. Only few ships were crossing the bay to the mainland, one had already reached the coast and Gilford went down to talk to one of the survivors.
"It was terrible. They are razing the city, not conquering it. They are burning everything to the ground, killing all they can reach, very few have reached the harbour before it was destroyed and I don't think anyone who is still on the island will survive this attack..." He went on, describing the whole attack. It seemed the demons' flying fortress had hovered over the city while magical lighting and fire poured down onto it, arrows were shot and demons entered the streets. The pagic projectiles had destroyed most of the building and set on fire what was inflammable. Tar Cantun was no more.
Spoiler Alert, click show to read:
Glungurd nodded to the princess, pretending to fully comprehend her significance. He wasn't sure why a person, who was supposedly able to take care of many others, needed to be taken care of by Glungurd and the rest of the company. But he had become used to not understanding things lately and was content to trust the princess's words. Gazing into the warm fire brought him thoughts of the warmth and comfort of his cave dwelling back home. But he shook these thoughts away, determined to forget such longings until his current task was completed. "So we are going to kill the other person? The one who wants to take your place?" Glungurd asked.
The princess sighed and stared into the fire, along with the Odglok for a moment and then returned her gaze to him. "I think we have to, yes. But he has brought even more dangerous people to help him. They are the ones we really need to fight and we are on our way to find out how we can accomplish that." After a few moments her smile had returned to her face. "And with a might warrior like yourself on our side, what could possibly stand in our way?"
Though the princess's question was rhetorical, Glungurd became quite nervous as he thought of all the things that might seriously threaten their lives. He had only witnessed a few demons, having been imprisoned during most of Lassara's invasion, but he found them terrifying. They reminded him of his own race's legends. Stories told of horrible creatures encountered deep underground by Odgloks who had mined into veins of mysterious ore, or tunneled their way into spaces already inhabited. But again he stopped his mind from focusing on anything other than his new commitment. He forced a reassuring smile and nodded to the princess.
But the question had given him some serious doubt. He looked around at the other men in their company. They all carried bladed weapons of steel and were adorned in varying degrees of armor. He had an over-sized hammer and a sack of stones. It was becoming glaringly obvious that what constituted a warrior in his own society was vastly distant from the standards of Men. Again, Glungurd countered his fear. He knew he was brave, he knew he was tough, and he knew he was stronger than the others in their company, despite his inferior stature. He figured he would have to rely on those qualities if he was going to defend the party (or himself for that matter).
"What do you think about the other folks who are protecting you?" Glungurd asked the princess. Alain was obviously capable of handling himself, but Indax seemed more nervous than the Odglok. Rufus and Dietrich were also big question marks to Glungrud at this point.
The princess thought about that question herself for a moment. Obviously she knew, she could trust Alain and she had no doubt about the other guardsmen either. But what about the mercenaries, bandits and the young boy who was wanted for murder? She felt something about Drax. Something insides of him was haunting him yet he was hiding a strength that would break free at some point. She had also heard the story of Rufus and this new mercenary, Dietrich, seemed to be involved too. The princess felt genuinely sorry for what had happened to these scouts and deep inside she had already started to make plans for reforms, that would avoid such things in the future but that would have to wait until she was restored to her throne.
"Well, a merry group we have thrown together here", she smirked and looked around, "they are all strong, each in their own way. Some carry a strength they themselves do not know yet. Some are seeking vengeance for a past and seem to forget the future over it but I trust Lassa, she is one of your gods, to lead us. We are all here for a reason, or at least that is what us clerics are taught."
It was now almost evening, the midday sun's glare had faded into a dull glow by now, and the parting rays of sunlight illuminated their path. Riding onwards, Guantano glanced at his side. Alyssa remained focused, and had not called for a stop yet. He shrugged, unwilling and too tired to bother attempting to convince her of the need of a break like the other occasion. Raising a hand to wipe away the sweat on his brow, he gazed into the distance and beheld a strange sight. Two elves stood by the roadside conversing, a feline of some sorts by one of their sides. Alyssa mirrored his curiosity, and they both spurred their tired mounts on, anxious to discover what was going on. Magical bombardment, annoying elf-like creature talking of dragons, and now two elves and a large feline by the roadside, not in the forest! It looked like Lassara had changed a lot since he had last went on a journey, mused Guantano.
Riding closer, it appeared that a male elf was conversing to a female elf, speaking in common no less! Oddities abound indeed. Slowing his horse, Guantano was the first to shift himself off the horse, boots impacting the ground with a dull thud. Alyssa followed suit shortly thereafter, and the duo approached the pair, one of whom was leaning on the tree. The feline bared its fangs towards them, a dull growl echoing forth from it. The two elves ceased their conversation and turned to face them. Apprehensive of the feline's action and what seemed to be a tense situation, Guantano made the effort despite his weariness to sound welcoming and polite.
"Greetings, what brings two elves such as yourselves out of the northern forestland?" He asked, his palms faced outwards to indicate that he meant no harm.
Thomas woke to the sound of scratching, an incessant rhythm that gnawed at him, nagged at him, pulling his mind out of sleep as roughly as a crone pulling string from wool, bits at a time, those wits told him he was lying on a hard bed with a headache like a poker in his brain, he wasn’t likely to be going anywhere soon. As he pulled his senses together he opened his eyes and saw a grey moon with a black jagged edge and seven white stars rested on its dark edge as it danced on a sky of black and brown. After a few seconds he had regained enough wits to notice it was a particularly dusty chandelier hanging from a set of rafters that housed a prodigious amount of spiders. And it wasn’t dancing, that was the room spinning.
He tried to pull his hands to his head but found he couldn’t budge and the attempt left his mind reeling and sent the room into a spin that would make a gymnast blush. After a few seconds the room returned to a slower spin from sickening to merely disorienting. Unable to move even his head Thomas lay in his bed brooding on the events of the last few days and trying to ignore the headache and unbearable amount of itching in his arms and nose until after closing his eyes for a few seconds falling asleep.
Thomas woke again an unknown time later to the same scratching this time the moon wasn’t dancing and his headache had gone enough for him to think straight and even turn his head, which was something.
He was in some sort of room, the walls were of old looking wood and there wasn’t a ceiling just rafters and the underside of a thatch roof, the seven stars had extinguished leaving a great amount of wax caked on points on the rim of the moon. Looking to his left he could see a tall wall of shelves with a large amount of bottles and jars of coloured glass, some containing innocent looking liquid but the majority had a number of beans, eggs and powders. Or at least he hoped they were beans and eggs as on second glance there were a number of jars containing pickled snakes, frogs, insects, eels, and several other creatures he couldn’t identify.
To his right was a wooden chest of drawers. There was nothing odd about that. If only he could say the same for the things sitting on top of the drawers. On the drawers someone had decided to mount a sword, a helmet, a skeletal hand that was covered with scratches and one of the fingers were missing.
And a severed head.
Attachment 1586
With that he pissed himself and fainted.
After the demon had left, Frijyk looked back at Morangul. He was nearly fuming from the demon's taunting words, and now turned his worsened attitude on his ally.
"Why did you let him escape? We should have fought him right there! The next time we see him, he'll probably have that other giant one with him... that might've been our only chance to fight them alone, split apart!"
"Don't be foolish, Frijyk! I may be powerful, but that demon
was as well. We would not have left that battle unscathed.
Besides, that "giant" was actually a golem, and they are notorious
for being extremely resistant , if not immune, to magic. Calm yourself down, and listen to me!
It would be unwise to keep following them."
Seeing Frijyks anger rise again, Morangul quickly added, "We must find a weapon of Neril if we are to fight them."
The wizard's words made sense to Frijyk. He reasoned that the old mage probably had some prior experience with them. He felt his anger cooling, and he was slipping back into his normal temperament.
"I suppose you're right... still, resistant to magic or not, I do hope you can teach me some new tricks and technique. Who is this 'Neril' you speak of, and why do we need his weapons?"
The second time was somewhat easier, since the last time the sheets had been replaced and a now stable vision helped. More of Thomas’ strength had returned and the itching had eased off. Even the head had become easier to view though it still gave him a chill as he looked at it.
The skeletal hand had lost another finger. The scratching was still there through.
After a few minutes of brooding Thomas sat up in the bed and backed up to sit against the headboard. His right arm was wrapped in bandages, he couldn’t feel his hand. He looked to the other side of the room to a desk up against the far wall under the window where a small figure sat on a tall chair his presence betrayed only by the sheen from a bald head just visible over the back rest.
“Where am I?” said Thomas.
The scratching paused for a second then resumed as a rough voice answered.
“In my bloody bed.”
“Oh, and you are?”
“Almost finished, stop bothering me.”
Thomas swallowed the next question and started to examine his bandages. His elbow bended easily but for some reason he couldn’t twist his forearm. The forearm was thinner than he remembered and seemed shorter. A wave of dizziness washed over him. The hand seemed to be missing altogether. Thomas’ heart started to pound as he started to rip at the cloth wrapped around his arm.
“Just noticed did yer?” The man asked not turning from the desk “Do yerself a favour and take yer medicine before doing that.”
Thomas paused and looked around. A stool had been pulled up to the left of the bed. A tray had been placed on top, its contents; 2 pieces of bread and a yellow bottle.
Thomas made a small prayer that the bottle wasn’t like the ones on the wall, pulled it to his lips and drank. A familiar feeling of wellness spread through his body as all the aches faded and his head cleared. It was a restoration potion like the ones on The Silver Maiden.
His head cleared Thomas returned to the bandages and unwrapped down to the elbow. The bandages became loose and with a flick the sheets of linen fell off.
Underneath two white bones sprouted from his elbow.
Thomas stared at what remained of his forearm for what felt like days, transfixed, unable to move or speak just stare in bile fascination.
“Hey lad” The rough voice snapped Thomas out of his fixation “think of a hand and say ‘le’”
“W-what?”
“Think of a hand and say ‘le’”
“What happened to my arm?”
“A curse took the flesh of the bone. Now think of a hand and say ‘le’”.
“...”
“Come on lad say ‘le’”
“...le”
He heard a clicking sound
“Right. Now say think of a hand and say ‘tm’ ‘en’ and ‘tr’”
“...Tm” another click “En, Tr.”
He heard a whooshing sound and then two clack sounds to his right. Looking at the draws he saw the hand had regained two fingers.
“What was that?”
“Progress” The man hopped off the chair and walked over to the bed.
Now Thomas had a clear look the man deemed to be a rather ordinary dwarf, about 4 foot tall the man stood in breeches, a white tunic, leather boots and a brown waist jacket. His head was bald but he had a white beard that stretched down his chest, on a large nose sat a pair of golden spectacles magnified two chestnut eyes and his face and hands were wrinkled. He was quite portly yet he looked like he had some muscle underneath the girth and he didn’t seem to have problems manoeuvring.
“OK lad, this will be quite a jolt but try not to piss yerself. Think of a hand and say ‘Redghast’”
“Uh... OK, Redghast-Gah!”
The entire skeleton hand shot from its stand and flew at Thomas, he scrabbled backwards to avoid it but the hand planted itself on the end of the bony end of his forearm.
“Heh, say hello to your new hand lad.”
Thomas held up the bone limb and tried moving it. The hand clenched into a hollow fist.
“Wh-what happened?”
“Well yer big friend said to include all the bells and whistles so I gave you the ability to detach and reattach each bone at will, wait I got a chart” The dwarf produced a piece of parchment, on it was a diagram of a skeletal hand. Each bone had a different letter written on them. “See each letter correspond to each bone if you want to attach or detach a different joint just say the two letters in one word, the letters in alphabetical order, and they will either zoom to eachother or drop to the floor. And Redghast is the reset word, say it and they'll all either fall off or reatach.”
Thomas took the sheet
“Thanks but I was talking about how I got here”
“Oh. Well yer were hit by a nasty curse that made your arm rot, by the time yer friend carried you to my shop the only thing keeping yer hand together was a few pieces of sinew. Standard procedure was to cut it off and cast regenerate, but for some reason only the bones grew back. After a few tries nothing could be done so yer friend decided to at least give you back use of your hand. So some runes on each bone and a set on your temple to make a connection between your brain and the arm and we were in business.”
‘Big friend?’ That would be Gilford he guessed.
Thomas turned his hand around examining the gaps between the bones. The bones didn’t seem to be held together by anything. There was a gap between the hand and the arm bones yet his hand didn’t fall off but hovered in place.
He reached over to the pieces of bread and picked one up with his bone hand. The bread fell almost instantly back to the plate. He frowned and tried picking up the bottle, this time trying to keep a better grip of the glass. The bottle fractured between his finger and thumb.
“Yer going to have to get used to that, without skin to feel with yer have no senses to tell you how to maintain pressure without crushing things. I’d suggest a padded glove and learning to use yer left hand.”
Kyran paced southwards. The elven woman was still obstinate about his proposal. Now, these humans had the gall to intervene on their conversation. Pulling back up, he decided on a new approach. Perhaps "resetting" the conversation was in order. In lieu of a 'yes' to his demand, perhaps a name would get things on track. Ignoring the humans, Kyran chose to converse in his own elven, if for no other reason to keep them clueless.
"Mani naa essa en lle?" he posed to the woman. "Amin naa Kyran."
He turned back to the humans. He gave just the slightest of nods to indicate he had heard the male. "Curiosity, one might say," he responded, turning his head slightly to indicate the human city in the distance, which appeared to have succumbed quickly to the invaders. "Do you know what happened to the city?"
Alyssa's courser trotted slowly forward, and she appeared next to Guantano. She was still holding her axe in one hand, hanging down passively but at the ready at a moment's notice.
"It was attacked by a host of demons led by the ancient enemies of Lassara and is at the moment, I suspect, succumbing to fiery death and destruction."
She had made her voice flat on purpose and sounded as if she was carelessly conversing about the weather. She turned her head to Guantano.
"Don't you think we should get going? These elves are not a problem unless they have half a mind to squeal about our passing by, and I can't see who'd be interested in knowing that anyway. Not enough to try and question an elf, at least."
She turned back to the elf who had spoken.
"You speak with a strange accent. It is so far from the High Elven I recall from my school days. From where do you hail?"
When the dwarf had finished detailing the new features of the new hand and left the room to fetch some cleric Thomas sat in bed staring at his bony appendage.
The runes scratched over the surface of each finger were magically strengthening the hand to the point where it could stand a mountain landing on it. Also the strength the runes that moved the fingers with were limitless, so when he squeezed hard on an object the pressure would build and build until the either the bone shattered or the object broke; as the tray his medicine had arrived on found out.
He made a note to make sure he didn’t step on the splinters still littered the floor when he would leave.
Thomas looked to the right and stared at the head, ignoring the shivers crawling down his back.
“Enego” he mumbled to himself, the voice had called the demon that, a scrawny devil that enjoyed pain. Even its features seemed animalistic. He looked to the helmet lying next to the head. How had he fit his head into that?
“Ugly little blighter isn’t he?” A voice asked
Thomas turned his head, the door at the end of the left wall was opened and another dwarf was standing under the frame. He looked alot like the runesmith but had a head of faded red hair, a patchy beard and was wearing long (for a dwarf) blue linen robes.
“Still, not as ugly as his choice of curses, would have taken your entire body if it had been any quicker acting.”
“Who are you?”
“Rorek SoftChisel at your service, you’ve met my Brother; Kaz. Please don’t be offended by his manner he’s a bit impatient.” The dwarf walked to the end of the bed.
“Softchisel? I know dwarf names are weird but that seems odd by even your standards, no wonder he seemed annoyed.”
The dwarf frowned.” Your name’s not exactly up to snuff itself. Targryn, why you would want to be called a sticky tunnel worm is not any of my business.”
Thomas turned his nose at the dwarf, “Huh, the Targryn name is the second most coveted name in the realm, any lord would marry even the ugliest of cousins for the smallest chance to get into my family.”
Rorek grinned “Well it’s none of my business what you people would do for a silly name though why you would want one that is so obviously a mangling of the name of gnome hero Tar-Grin is beyond my comprehension.”
Thomas’ face went red “I’ll have you know The Targryn Name is as old as Lassara.”
“The Gnome’s tale is over a thousand years old. You humans ripped it off.”
“Why you- Gah!” Thomas vaulted off the bed. He then jumped back onto it clutching his foot. The dwarf burst out giggling as Thomas gingerly pried a wooden tray splinter from his foot.
“Ha ha! Next time you might want to refrain from criticising your healer’s name. Heh, oh, you must have gotten along famously with Kaz, wish I had been there to see it. Still you seem to be fine, your friend will be relieved, he’s been pacing at my front desk for hours. “
The dwarf helped Thomas get dressed and after a few minutes found a bag to carry the sword, helmet and head.
“Whose idea was it to leave the head of the thing that took my arm by my bed? It nearly gave me a heart attack.”
“Oh, I was using him to try and reverse the curse and I needed some place to put it.” Rorek handed the sack to Thomas who flinched.
“Ok fine, but right beside me? And why do you think I want to have the head?”
“I’m sure you can find a use for it,” Rorek moved towards the door. “Now come on, someone else might need to use this room.”
The stepped out into a long hallway, the room Thomas had been in was at the end of a row of 7 doors and there were windows on the opposite wall. At one end was another door, the other an open doorway gave Thomas a glimpse of a workshop but the Dwarf walked towards the nearest one and opened it to reveal a store front room.
They stepped through into the back of the store, it was an apothecary shop reminiscent of the one Gilford had looted in Lassara, along the walls were more shelves of bottles jars and tins, all labelled, and across the floor were several tables laden with more jars. On the far wall were two large windows separated by a door, beyond a crowded street bustling with townsmen and women going around their business, it was light but rather sullen the sky was overcast. To the right was a till, a wooden desk with a large book and a raised platform behind it. On the platform was the Dwarf Kaz pouring over the book and opposite him was Gilford leaning over the desk with a rather stiff expression on his face.
Gilford looked up and seeing Thomas his face lightened for a second before darkening again.
“You had better sit down” said Gilford “Something has happened.”
The conversations in the princess' camp went on for a while until, one by one, the members of the party were seeking sleep. It had been a long day, mostly spent on horseback and they all craved rest for their weary bodies. Guards were posted but nothing happened through the course of the night. With the first light of the sun coming up over the horizon Alain was already on his feet, getting the camp ready. "Alright, wake up!", he shouted while prodding some of those still lying on the ground with his feet.
The princess was already up as well, readying her things for the ride when the captain approached her. "Are you alright, your Majesty?"
"I thought we talked about this, my captain", the princess giggled softly and waited for him to help her into the saddle, "I am Liana, not 'your Majesty'. You're going to blow my cover, Alain."
He smiled and nodded before replying: "Are you sure about Leon? We have not succeeded in reaching the city before the army and by now the town will be under siege or already occuppied. I fear you will put yourself in a lot of danger there."
"I am more worried about what would happen if we delay our visit of Leon. We need to figure out a way to stop this. There is no telling what this flying fortress will do to the east of our country but I fear the worst and I believe the army will march further south as soon as they can arrange that. By the time we reach Leon they should be gone."
"The army will be gone, yes, but Boreale will surely leave a garrison to keep order in this newly occupied region. They will be looking for us, especially for you."
She smiled again and looked over the camp, mostly ready for the day's journey. "That's why you mustn't blow my cover", she finally replied, almost jokingly and the captain retreated, shaking his head, to mount his horse. "Alright everyone, off to Leon!"
The male elf grew silent for a moment, his jaw tensing, perhaps unwilling to divulge the information so freely.
Meanwhile, Guantano inclined his head towards Alyssa, and with a very nonchalant expression, he replied, "Never underestimate the value of casual conversation, perhaps they might know some information which a typical human may not."
Reverting back to a clearer and warmer tone, Guantano repeated Alyssa's query. "Indeed, your accent escapes the recognition of even one who has passed the borders of Tarania."