The rain fell in an oppressive torrent hammering off the weathered stone of the ancient ruins, the thunderous sound as if a mob of blood thirsty arena goers yelling and screaming for blood. The once drab and compact floor of dirt and over grown grass had wilted into a muddy mess that gave under the slightest movement and dragged down on ones feet as if possessed. On one side of what once was a great hall now ravaged by time and neglect stood the warrior clad in brigandine and cloaked in leather, a bastard sword in hand. And across from him on the other side was a hundred stone worth of angry mountain troll with the charred, mutilated body of her child laid broken and lifeless between them.

The man's muscles screamed for rest, taxed from the battles before. His left arm lay worthless at his side, the splint that had held a broken forearm destroyed, crushed from the blow that caused the second break below his shoulder. The rain that spilled from the heavens fell as a curtain before his eyes and pelted at his head streaming blood into his eyes from some cut along his brow to burn and blur his vision. Of course the swelling from a hastily set nose worked more to blind him than anything else. Through the thrum of blood pounding through his head, the cacophony of the rain, and the rough, huffing breath of the troll he could barely hear the voice of the priest as he chanted some incantation likely over the broken body of the thief. Had they sense they'd likely have went to seek the hunter who had also joined the journeyed to this forsaken castle, yet such thoughts would never make voice as the sense of movement and the sound of scraping claws against sodden earth told of the clear and urgent focus: the troll had set into a charge.

The warrior steeled himself, digging his boots welcoming into the steadying pull of the soaked ground as he brought that blade back, winding up for one powerful strike at the massive creature. He had no reservations that he'd survive such a foolhardy defense, but he'd lived a long life and found no fear in the thought of his own death. He watched as earth and grass where torn asunder by the creatures rage fueled charge, as leathery fur covered skin twisted and rolled accentuating powerful muscles that strove for a singular hate filled goal as the creature bellowed in ire and anguish showing row after row of jagged teeth built for shredding flesh and bone. Time seemed to slow in that instant of facing death, yet before the warrior knew it that creature and closed and lunged, deadly claws forward, jaw ajar as that set of four red eyes that burned with hatred focused on the kill. With nothing left to do, the man matched the beasts rage letting out a demon possessed howl of his own as he arced that blade forth...

= = = = =

"You just can't start there!" The young girl harrumphed and flung her hands down in emphasis of her point, green eyes glaring at the story teller.

The older man gave the girl a lazy glance with eyes the color of the ocean depths, a heavy set brow quirking in inquiry. "An' why no'" Tis tha bes' part. Gots action, gots violence, gots beast kill'n, wha's not ta like?"

The young elven boy who sat next to the girl gave her hand a slight pat to calm her as he addressed the older man. "You just can't start at the exciting part without leading up to it....that just isn't how it's done! Who is this warrior" Who are the priest and the thief and the hunter" Why are they even at a run down castle in the first place facing off against trolls" We want to hear the whole story!" The girl gave an energetic nod in agreement.

A lazy sigh escaped the story teller as a massive hand rose to scratch in irritation at his thick corn colored beard. "Bu' tha' par' bae borin' w' lots of talk'n an' sorts wi'out a lotta fight'n." He looked at the two as they glared at him in determination responding in unison.

"Please Petar, tell us the whole story!" The older man cringed a little at the earnest plea, a weary gaze cast upon the two.

"Oi bloo'y 'ells tha' bae creepy. An' what if'n I don' feel li'e goin' o'er all that bor'n stuff?"

The two looked at each other before the girl would come up with a new strategy turning those starkly green eyes to the man but rather than a glare they would grow wide to emphasize the drooping of her features in downtrodden disappointment. "But....we really want to hear the story, the whole story....they are so much more exciting than those we've heard from other travelers, the Thompson brothers said so! We even brought you your favorite drink in hopes that maybe you'd be so kind as to....bu..but if you don't want to I guess we really can't force you too..." Had she the faculty she may even have shed a tear at this point.

Of course this only made Petar cringe even more as he leaned slightly away from the girl. She probably lead that poor boy around like a mule with a carrot and stick. Azure eyes would look away from the saccharine sight seeking comfort in the glass of whiskey he held, his payment so to speak. He watched for a long pause as a glove hand idly swirled the amber liquid about the glass before at last he'd let out an exasperated sigh, a tired look cast back to the youths. "Fin', fin' I'll tell ye tha whole story. Bu' only cause this liquor tends ta ma'e me nostalgic an' sorts."

The two nodded happily, their faces lighting up as they stared at him in earnest concentration once more. He still found this rather disturbing but a swig of that liquor and the burn of the alcohol as it traveled down to his core helped to alleviate such misgivings.

"Well, anyway, as'n I hear this all 'appen'd a few years back. Y'see..."

The sun had long since retreated beyond the horizon and the moons had already begun their ascent by the time Omar stepped out into the brisk night air. He stretched lazily before locking up the store, O"Connel having already left to track down how much damage his wife had done to his profits for the day. It had only been six months since he had arrived in this city yet already he was trusted with so much responsibility by O"Connel, likely a poor decision but given the mans past with wives he probably wasn't the type of fellow who made good decisions often. Omar mused over this as his legs carried him mindlessly down the cobbled streets towards the docks district. The increasing din of drunken merriment would bring his mind back to his surroundings as he gaze came upon his destination: The Tawny Crab.

It was a simple enough building made of stained stone and wood faded by the constant salty breeze from the harbor. Of course the inside was just as worn by the" lowbrow custom the bar attracted. The only real good points for the establishment were that it was cheap, they hardly watered down your drinks, and it carried a bevy of drinks and foods for foreign tastes being a port tavern and this was good enough for the smith. Omar ambled his way up the steps and pushed through the door letting the full heady atmosphere wash over him; the smell of cheap booze and smoke, the carousing of patrons, and the erratic energy of dozens of different problems trying to crawl into bottles or bosoms. It was his kind of place, and though such likely didn't reflect well on him it didn't lessen the fact any.

Shuffling through the throng of patrons he made his way across the commons to the bar top, a gloved hand raising long enough to garner the tenders attention before he'd shuffle about to settle upon one of the wooden stools that lined the oaken counter. Omar really didn't have any friends here, though that was mostly his fault as he really didn't pursue any kind of friendship. He came solely for one purpose and one purpose only, and this was presented to him in the form of two medium glasses of amber liquor set before him by the tender. A simple nod was given between the two men before the tender would move off to his next customer and Omar would take up that first glass. Unceremoniously the glass was lifted for a long draw of the amber liquid, a thin smile pulling on his lips as he felt the comforting burn giving way to that warm glow at his core. Emerald eyes would close lazily as he let his mind drift, another long draw of the alcohol helping to push his mind away from the din of the present.

A gentle voice beside him would bring his mind crashing back to reality. "Excuse me, may I take this seat?"

"It's a mostly free port; you can do as you li?" Those emerald eyes cracked open to see whom he addressed, the sight of yellow robes and silver hair tugging on remembrance. ?"what do you want?"

Bardiin took the stool gingerly next to him, a gentle smile curling on those angular features. "Thank you very much. And what I want is simply to speak with you about my proposition."

Omar's eyes opened so he could shoot the drow a sidelong glare. "Thought I already told you I ain't this Sir Rick Alfwasowhatever you were looking for."

That smile didn't leave the drow's face as their head craned slightly. "I understand, but I would like for you to listen to my proposal nonetheless. Perhaps you would be interested in it for yourself."

The smith snorted lightly, a drink taken as he dismissed the drow. "Not likely, I have a job and I ain't looking to switch to a different smithy."

"Oh, this isn't a smithing job. I seek other" talents that I believe you would have." The melodic tin of the elfkin's voice and the properness of speech thatstood at ends with the typical tone of the tavern.

Eyeing the drow once more revealed that smile hadn't waned any which only worked to annoy him. "Look knife ear, I doubt very much that I have any talents that would be of use to one so"fine of dress and manner as you."

An embarrassed chuckle escaped the drow, either oblivious or ignoring the mans insulting tone. "That is where you are wrong. I am in need of a great warrior, and you are such' or were." Omar made to object but the elf pushed on. "The way you carry yourself, the many scars of battles past that mark you, even just your presence is unnerving and the air about you daunting and dangerous. You are a warrior and nothing you say can dismiss that fact."

Omar stared a while longer at the elf who returned his gaze gently yet almost daring him to disprove their assertions. He broke the gaze with a lazy drink of that liquor, attention shifting away. "Alright, so you fancy me a "warrior," whatever. I am a smith now, and if you seek a fighter for hire you need only look around, I'm sure you could find any number of sellsword to tend to your business."

The drow's smile faded a little as his expression took on a more serious tone. "I do not seek any common sellsword sir, I seek a warrior of caliber of which I am certain you are" besides, I have something that may be of interest to you..."

The drow trailed off producing a simple silver ring from the folds of his robe. The ring wasn't of particular quality or remark save for a simple phoenix crest signet that adorned the crown. Omar eyed the ring with disinterest as he took a sip of that liquid ambrosia. "I hope you don't think such a bauble is any sort of worthy payment for a swordarm' it's hardly anything rare and looks to be well beyond worth in wear and tear."

That smile grew once more upon those angular features. "The payment isn't so much the ring in particular, but the owner of it. That is, information on them."

Omar let his attention drift once more as he nursed that glass of liquor idly. The elfkin simply sat there patiently letting the man mull over his thoughts. Finally Omar gave the ring another glance, that frown that pulled on his stern features growing a touch as curiosity finally took him, free hand snatching the ring without resistance from the drow's outstretched hand. He brought the ring up for closer scrutiny, taking note of the worn details of the crest and the nearly rubbed away scripture that lined the inside: Iv Yyglan Iv Dricroys Pas Viln U Tengrival ~ Lrs. Yylginfras.

The drow crossed it's hands atop the oaken counter. "It belonged to a sellsword by the name of Hardin Ingles, though I believe he was also known as Ilgenfrast."

"Belonged?" Emeralds locked onto the drow who simply smiled at the demanding inquiry.

"Yes, it was given as collateral on his last job' a job for my order to retrieve the artifact which I now seek and which I wish your assistance in acquiring."

Omar set the ring down next to those ebony hands. "And what happened to the last company that sought this artifact?"

"That is part of your payment' to find out what happened to the honorable Sir Ilgenfrast." That smile reached those vermillion eyes.

Omar turned his attentions away and back to the drink in hand which was nearly empty, the last bit downed before setting the glass upon the bartop. He'd take up the second glass now. "And what makes you think I care?"

"Just an intuition. Anyways, beyond that, if it is shown that he abandoned his contract than you would be entitled to his remaining payment on top of any acquisitions made during our quest."

A mild snigger escaped the man. "So you think I'm some sort of warrior who would throw himself into danger for an old acquaintance who's likely dead by their own stupidity for a bit of change and the opportunity for trinkets?"

"Yes." The drow's response was firm, a defiant tone creeping into that melodic voice. "Yes I do. All that as well as because Sir Ilgenfrast left an expectant lady in waiting who has bade me to find out what happened to her beloved as well, and I believe you are the kind to care about that as well."

Omar watched lazily as the drow spoke their case, that frown weary upon his features. When silence feel between the two once more his thoughts would turn inward as he idly nursed on that drink in hand. He had to give Helvirret one thing, they were well informed and knew how to use that to their advantage. Another moment or two would pass before he'd acknowledge the drow. "Is that so' A quest you said."

"Indeed." The drow matched the mans gaze, their expression serene yet defiant much like the cat that had a taste for other pets.

"So you've roped other dopes into this little farce?"

And once more that smile curled on those angular features. "Would you like to meet them?"

A weary sigh escaped the man, a hand raised lazily in an exasperated gesture. "Fine, fine, I'll hear you out' even if I'm not the man you seek. Are you happy?"

"Ecstatic! If you'll follow me they should be gathered in a corner booth this way." That lithe figure slipped off the barstool, a hand motioning for Omar to follow.

Well, things looked to be going from bad to worse as Omar slipped off his stool, drink in tow as he followed the drow to one of the large corner booths that surrounded the commons area.

"

= = = = =

"Uh' Petar?" The young girl craned her head as she brought her full attention to the silent man who himself stared at the empty vessel within his hand.

"Whelp, I'm out. Story tim's over." Petar stretched lazily, head tilting one side to the other with a dull pop accentuating each extreme. Azures glossed over looks of sheer shock that befell his young audience.

"Wh"what!" Bu..but we thought." The elvish boy stammered but the girl took a more direct form of protest.

"You can't just stop there! You've hardly gotten into the backstory much less the action!" Petar spied near outrage in the tense stance of the girl as she glared at him.

"Well, I trie" ta start off a" tha best bit bu' nooo, ye want'd all tha ex-position an' stuff "efore." That outrage didn't temper at his explanation, but rather spurred the girl.

"But action without context is like"like stew meat outside of stew, it's just unpalatable and non-sensical!"

"Huh' I rather li"e stew mea?" tha' toughness gives i?"" Petar didn't really shrink away from the intensity of that glare but he knew when being flippant wasn't really in his best interest. He watched the girl warily before raising the empty glass for the girl to inspect.

"Well, stew's aside I still bae ou" o' paymen" fer mae amateur bard"n." That glare faltered some at the presentation of stark fact and the flat stare of the older man which spoke of his seriousness.

Now it was the girls turn to stammer. "Well" I...we thought that just one would wet your appetite" and?" She fumbled into the pockets sewn onto the front of her apron; a hand tapping the elf's to prompt him to searching his person as well for any further coin. Petar watched the two with a stoic expression as they compared the random assortment of tidbits between them, their expressions dwindling at the dawning realization. Those azures would wander off having their fill of the sight when suddenly another voice would interrupt the quiet, panicked discussion between the two.

?"Nother tall order Pe~tar." Those azures snapped to the shapely woman that stood between the two, another tall glass of amber in hand as well as the blue bottle whence the contents came from. "On me" for onea my best customers."

Petar gave a mild glare of his own to the woman who only smirked at the gesture though this was quickly squashed by the bubbling excitement from the two youths.

"Oh Hannelore! Thank you, thank you, we'll work hard and pay you back, we swear. Won't we Kelen!" The girl elbowed the elf in the side knocking him into supplication as well. "Indeed! We will pay you back with interest, you have our word!"

The woman gave the two a mildly embarrassed look backing off some from the intensity of their platitudes. "It's alright, it's alright, just enjoy yourself" all of you." She offered a knowing wink to Petar who turned away scoffing the playful gesture though his hand would already be exchanging glasses. He waited a moment before taking a lazy draw of the amber liquid, that warmth at his core growing once more into a comfortable glow. Azures turned to catch as the woman sauntered off back towards the bar, and now he was left once more with the excited ones who did well to hide their contentment. A lazy sigh escaped him. "Sae"righ?" were was I?"

"An then Omar slid off-a his stool, drin in hand as he followed the drow to one-a the corner booths thaa surrounded thaa commons?"

Petar cringed to himself at the girl's poor impression of his accent. "Righ", righ?" anyway??

A week and a half passed without incident and Omar continued with life as usual working the forge by day and the bar by night. Unfortunately on the evening of the twelfth day the drow was waiting for him outside the shop as promised; those bright colored robes replaced with a less bright orange tunic with a belt that had a number of large pouches affixed to it. Beneath the tunic gray breeches were worn that disappeared into tops of black riding boots. A mustard yellow wool cloak and matching pointed hood with lappets and ear holes finished the garish ensemble.

Despite the desire to ground the smiling pointy eared bastard into the cobbles Omar would behave not wanting to grievously injure the only potential healer in their merry band so soon into their journey. Instead the two walked in relative silence to his boarding house to retrieve his pack and change into his gear: a leather brigandine with steel plating, steel and hard boiled leather bracers and spaulders, a heavy leather cloak, a bastard sword held against broad back by a baldric, and an arming sword at his side. The sight was obviously a disappointment to the elfkin but that didn't really bother him.

Following one of the trade roads that followed the aqueduct out of town the pair met up with the rest of their compatriots. Other than a few extra packs amongst them most of the others wore the same garb as the night they meet though the light fare of the smith seemed to disappoint the others as well" save for the mage whom seemed to have chosen the man to be her buddy regardless of his disinterest. And so the "merry' band would set out along the trade road traveling west across the plains and into the mountains. It wouldn't be till a week into their journey that they would abandon the cart and most the extra mounts to cut off the road and into the wilderness that surrounded the mountain.

Upon the thirteenth night Omar busied himself as he did every evening tending to the fire pit. Nearly two weeks had passed and hardly two dozen words of note had been exchanged amongst any of the others in the party, each whiling the days away in their own thoughts or making idle banter and it seemed tonight would be no different. There was a certain uneasiness in the air born of an almost palatable lack of trust amongst the five individuals; they each may have had a stake in this little endeavor, but they only viewed each other as liabilities.

Omar sat on the far side of the fire from the others prompting the young mage to move over to him sitting with a smile. Lorent of course made his usual note of this. "Well now, looks like your little crush has found you you old hound you. Har!"

Raina glared at the man though the indignation in her eyes had worn to a mere annoyance over the past few weeks. "Go fall off a cliff idiot."

And this always drew a barking laugh from the hunter which had remarkably kept all it's grating quality throughout the trip. Omar glanced over to the thief and the drow who simply sat and watched the shenanigans with amused smiles on their faces. Other than the mages endearment with him those two were the next closest. Thick as thieves would be the bad pun though Omar suspected the woman was simply trying to work on the good graces of the one with the money.

The sudden end of the hunters barking laugh would bring Omar's attentions back to the man who stared at him' or more correctly past him, a wolfish grin curling upon his lips. "So old man, how good of a warrior are you?"

His expression remained that stoic disinterest as he shuffled lightly, staring at the hunter. "Like I've said, I'm not a warrior. Just a smith that knows how to fight."

"Ah, too bad, but looks be you ought improve in short order, yes?" Raina looked between the two men in confusion and then to the thief who's smile had waned.

"Uh' what are you two??" She wouldn't get the chance to finish her sentence as Omar lurched to the side, earth flying as he spun around into a crouch to face the tree line behind him, those emeralds scanning over the dancing shadows cast by the firelight. Over the surprised yelp of the mage he could hear Lorent do the same though this would be followed by a loud snap, groan, and twang as the man knocked and let loose an arrow into the gloom of the forest. A wet thunk and a half surprised half pained yelp would tell that Lorent found his target, the sound bringing forth the charge of figures from amongst the trees who descended with blades in hand.

From that crouch Omar exploded forward towards the first figure that crossed from the treeline. The attackers wore black leather armor and hoods which obscured their faces with little else telling of their identities, though that was really a question for after the threat of bloody murder was past. The closest attacker raised their blade as they charged to strike down the smith, the hard crossing slash dodged with a spin as Omar drew his arming sword only to sink its tip into the assailant's side as he passed. The attacker gasped as they grasped at their side turning to face the smith but the action was too slow, Omar had already turned about his blade arcing before the attacker biting through the leather hood to the throat beneath. The hooded figure gurgled as they dropped their sword, both hands clutched at their throat trying to stay the tide of life that ebbed from the wound as they collapsed.

Omar glanced once more to make sure the fallen stayed where they fell before he turned to the next who befell him, swords crossing and catching with a sharp twang. The attacker tried to push away, stepping back to gain leverage but Omar gave them no quarter as he pushed forward against the perpetrator. He shoved the assailant off balance, forcing open their stance before he drew his blade across the attackers face bringing out a sharp cry, their sword brought up in a panic to defend their face. This of course was taken advantage of as Omar drove the point of his blade into their exposed core drawing it out to the side causing the attacker to spin as they collapsed grasping to hold their viscera in place. The wound was not quickly lethal, but the point driven between the ribs and through the assailant's heart would help to speed them on their way.

The remaining two attackers that had set upon the smith now hung back uneasily. Omar watched the two as they warily separated, each walking a different direction around the large man to try and flank him. Rather than try to watch both Omar took the opportunity to assess the rest of the situation, those emerald eyes turning back towards the camp to see the fate of the others.

Lorent smiled like a madman as he continued to let loose arrows with surprising speed, dodging and riddling his would be attackers with shots to a varying number of strategic and painful locations. Ana seemed to be holding her own as she staved off a couple of attackers with daggers in each hand, her strikes and dodges fluidic and graceful as she killed her adversaries with a hundred pokes and cuts. The drow, despite their lack of weapons, seemed to be doing well for themselves as they dodged, avoided, and directed their attacker about the small clearing until finally striking, turning the poor bastards blade upon themselves before impaling it into the shadow of that cowl. And Raina" the girl scrambled along the ground avoiding the fighting as she moved towards her belongings apparently ignored by the attackers.

Assured of the continued existence of his traveling companions Omar turned back to the foes at hand as the one before him lunged with steel forward. It was a reckless attack which was easily knocked to the side with his blade as the smith turned to face the true threat behind, blade rising to meet the others halting the cut aimed to remove his head from top of his shoulders. Omar closed in, blades scraping as he pried the attackers form open to allow his free hand to cut upwards viciously into the shadowed jaw sending the assailant reeling back. He'd start to move in for the kill when he'd feel a hard thump at his side, the other attacker obviously trying to cut into him though the steel plates of the brigandine easily held off the poorly thought out attack. Omar rolled with the cut to his side, letting the blade bite harmlessly across the steel plates as he turned to face the attacker. The assailant had obviously noted the lack of result of his cut as they drew back to try another lunge, this one parried just as easily as the last thanks to the obvious discrepancy in strength between the two. Having the inside line Omar would step in, sword striking down into the shoulder of the attackers sword arm, his blade cutting through the unenforced leather with ease as it drove into the flesh and bone beneath. The attacker cried out as they involuntarily dropped their sword, hand grabbing at the smiths swords which was already drawing out only to stab down a few more inches into the figures chest. A twist was given for added damage before he sent a booted heel into the figures stomach freeing them from his blade as they sprawled into a heap on the forest floor.

Now to finish the other one though as Omar turned a high pitched squeal would snap his attention back to the camp and the young mage who made the sound. A lone attacker had finally taken note of the mage who was scurrying along the ground, his blade held high as he closed for the kill. Thought left him as his large form wrenched towards the attacker, the blade in hand launched forwards the assailant. He didn't have much hope that such a foolhardy move would actually kill the attacker but if only it granted him time to close. His feet tore at the foliage and earth to gain footing as he watched the blade ineffectually spin through the air, the attacker staving off the flung object with their free arm.

"NO!" Omar's voice roared out as the attackers blade fell. He could do nothing more but watch the arc of that blade as time slowed, Raina staring up at the coming doom. But suddenly the attackers form jolted, that blade slowing as the figure began to arch their back unnaturally. The reason became apparent as they turned slowly, the crimson stained point of a dagger which poked out from the cowl of the attacker glistened as it caught the light of the fire. The thief navigated the attacker like a grotesque puppet by that blade through their throat and another inserted into their lower back, turning them away from the mage before throwing their dying form off to the side.

And then the smith began to breath again, time catching up with him as he stumbled to the ground. The temporary relief was short lived though as a sharp, burning pain exploded in his shoulder; the forgotten attacker driving their blade between the steel plates and through the leather backing. Instinctively he lurched forward as he turned pulling his shoulder free from the blade as he faced his attacker who already drew back for another stab. His empty sword hand rose to deflect the next attack, bracer used as a make shift buckler to parry the thrust though he knew this strategy was going to fail soon as the attacker had all the advantage. Omar's mind raced for a solution when suddenly the smell of burning air washed over him, the hairs on the back of his neck standing on end as he felt the air around him become charged and agitated.

"Omar!" It was that same soprano that had squealed in fear earlier but this time it was determined, and that only meant one thing when dealing with mages. He would abandon any defense as he turned to flatten himself against the ground just avoiding the gulch of flames that ferociously burst forth above him enveloping the attacker. He pressed his face down into the cool earth to avoid the blaring heat as he held his breath against the vacuum created by the vortex of magically summoned flames. The screams of the attacker faded against the deafening roar of the flames, and after what seemed like an eternity all sound would cease save for the pounding of blood in his ears. He'd keep his face buried a moment or two longer before lifting his head tentatively to gulp in a much needed breath, those emeralds snapping open to take in the aftermath. The others stood in shock as they stared at the young girl who held her staff before her, the tip still glowing a bright orange. Hazarding a look behind him Omar could see the cone of destruction caused by the magical fire, the trees burnt black much like the charred remains of the attacker who still held the remnants of a sword" or at least the part that had not melted into a puddle of slag at their untouched feet. Omar gave the statue like figure a nudge with his boot causing the charcoal figure to crumble apart. Another look back to the mage would catch her beaming with pride at the devastation she had wrought.

Lorent grinned annoyingly as he slung his bow back across his back, whistling in a glib manner. "Hells that was a potent bit of flame for a kid as you, and look, the old one isn't even cooked either!" He barked a laugh at this garnering a murderous glare from the mage, his laughter faltering only when she pointed the red glowing end of her staff at the man.

Rushing past the two, Bardiin closed in on the smith as he slowly rose to his feet. "Omar! Your injured!" Those angular features were contorted into a look of concern as the drow offered the man a hand which was simply brushed aside as he stood.

"It's not bad." He rolled his injured shoulder slightly, wincing as it complained at the movement. Those emerald eyes scanned his surrounding but it seemed the shadows held no more surprises" or at least any that wished to try their luck.

"That's not the point, we need to dress that!" By this point the drow looked frantic, Raina joining them as she rushed over. "You're injured!?"

Omar didn't have time for this as he pushed past the drow and mage taking long steps to close the distance to the other side of the camp. "In a bit' Hey, Lorent, did any of yours survive?"

The hunter quirked his brow at the smith before that lopsided grin of his curled on his features, shoulders lifting in a shrug. "Sorry friend but much as you I don't kills to maim, I kills to kill."

Omar scoffed at this though he couldn't exactly argue that point as he had made sure that all that crossed blades with him didn't get the chance to again? well, except for the one that Raina had done the honors for. A grumbled curse would begin to rise when suddenly the thief spoke up, her tone serious "I've one here."

All attention snapped to the thief who knelled over a downed figure, her dagger pressed against their throat. Pulling back on the cowl and the cloth mask beneath revealed a middle aged drow with their head shaven and a white splotch of paint drawn up their brow. Crimson eyes stared up in defiance at the woman who simply pressed the dagger harder into their ebon skin.

Everyone hurried to crowd about the felled one as Ana cut slightly into the drow's throat. "Tell me, who are you and why have you attacked us?"

The drow smiled showing stark white teeth against his ebon flesh as he responded....gibberish. Omar looked to Bardiin finding the priest contemplative. "What did he say?"

"Nothing useful I'm afraid, something about....sullying mothers and other trite threats."

"Right?" The man scratched at his goatee in contemplation. "So, do you know them?"

Bardiin gave him an incredulous look. "Not all drow are related."

Omar shrugged lazily, at once regretting the habit as his shoulder yelled of it's still stabbed state. He turned his attention back to Ana as she had moved her dagger up to one of those vermillion eyes, a dark expression crossing her face. "I asked who you are and why you attacked us."

But the captive simply laughed, that smile remaining on its face before vanishing in a flash as they spat at the woman. She apparently didn't take kindly to this as without hesitation she'd turn the blade in hand driving it through one of the captive's pointed ears pinning it to the ground. Raina gasped as she hid her face from the display, Bardiin looking away as they moved behind Omar to try and work on stanching the ooze of blood from the hole in his armor. The captive screamed out a string of gibberish that was likely more cursing judging from the angered tone and lack of commentary from Bardiin.

"Not much good they be hmm?" Lorent said as had sauntered over to one of the bodies of the other attackers unmasking the corpse to be another drow with the same markings. The hunter lazily patted about the corpse giving tugs here and there as he shuffled about the leather garb that they wore. That wolfish grin of his waned a little. "Not much good any of them be, not a thing on 'im save his clothes."

"Not even a scabbard?" Omar noted as he looked at the other scattered corpses. Whoever they were they had to have camp nearby. "Bardiin" how far off are we from this castle, temple place we're going too?"

He felt the hands that pressed against his shoulder ease up some in hesitation, the drow obviously catching on to his line of thinking. "Um, about a day away now."

"Hmm, I see. And you really don't know this drow?"

"I already told you all drows?"

"That's not what I mean and you know it!" The smith snapped as he turned to glare at the drow. The priest shrank back from the ferocity of the statement.

"N..no, I do not know whom these attackers are?"

"Could they be what "befell" the previous team of explorers?"

Those angular features twisted in a cross between indignation and aggravation. "No, I don't believe so."

"But if they be some cult that has taken refuge in the castle?"

And now it was the drow's turn to snap back at the smith. "They can't be taking refuge in the castle, I know it is still untouched! The others in my order assured me that the wards that were put in place still hold. And we only lost touch with the team before ours until after they were in the castle, not before. I know what you are trying to insinuate Omar but I have no knowledge of who these people are or why they are here and if you don't trust that then I doubt anything I could say will sway you." Omar continued his glare as the elfkin proclaimed his innocence, the attention of the others gathering upon them. Raina looked between the two frantically before trying to step between them.

"Omar" I think Bardin's telling the truth." The smith looked down at the young girl who gave him a pleading look in return. He'd begin to ignore the girl's pleas for peace when a surprised yelp and a grunting curse in gibberish came from behind. Snapping about Omar saw the thief leaping back from the drow who had gotten hold of their dropped weapon, swinging it wildly with its less injured arm. Omar began to close in on the gibbering drow, the emeralds tracking the restricted movement of the blade when suddenly something blurred before his eyes and the drow ceased it's flailing as it's head snapped back into the ground driven there by an arrow.

Emerald glare tracked back to Lorrent who offered a sheepish grin as he slung that bow over his shoulders once more. "There were still questions to ask!"

The hunter shrugged lackadaisically. "Didn't seem like they were much for talking only cursing no?"

The thief stepped forward now, ire burning in hazel eyes as apparently the only thing injured by the sudden attack was her pride. "I can be very persuasive when I want to be?"

"Ha! That's I don't doubt but would our only interpreter have been up to the task?" Lorent grinned though without any of that typical droll mirth.

The two men and the woman turned their attention to Bardiin whose ashen hands rose in agitation. "Oh not you two too! Look?"

But it didn't seem like anyone was keen on listening as voices erupted in chorused argument. Their voices carried out through the gloom of the night as each bickered with and berated the others regardless of the morbidness of their surroundings. As it seemed the four would soon come to blows a new voice rose up resounding over the cacophony piercing the quiet night.

"ENOUGH!" A loud crack followed the sharp order as the mage stabbed her staff into the earth, a wave of energy causing the sticks and leafs in a three foot circle around the staff to leap away with quite a few burning. The squabbling ceased as all eyes turned on the girl who glared back at each of them, steely gray eyes burning.

Omar raised his hands in a palliative manner. "Look, Raina?"

"I said enough!" Omar shied back from the girl who bristled. "I will not have you lot tear each others throats out, not when we are almost to our cursed destination! Now Bardiin wouldn't say our destination isn't intact if it weren't?"

The drow relaxed a little as at least one of them seemed to side with them, but no one else seemed convinced as Ana spoke up. "Look darling, I know you want him to be right but?"

"But nothing! We are but a days travel away and we'll have our answer then. If Bardiin was lying then we can gut and incinerate him then but there is no point bickering about it now!"

And now the drow looked worried again. As for the others they looked about uncomfortably as well, a few feet shuffling before a generally apprehensive agreement on those terms was given. The mage nodded firmly, the flopping of her pointed hat would have been comical if not for the fact that she still looked two steps away from immolating the next person to step out of line. "Alright, now Bardiin tend to Omar's shoulder, the rest of you check the bodies for anything of import or value and stack them up."

Everyone grumbled approval before separating to their tasks. As it turned out most of the assailants were drow and marked in the same manner as the other save for a couple of humans, one of whom were just the pair of boots. None of assailants had any more on them save the cloths on their back and the iron swords they carried in hand. Finishing the tasks at hand the group stood back as the mage let loose her anger and aggravation in another deluge of flames which consumed the corpses, a burnt acrid smell filling the night air. By the time that she'd exhausted her ability to drive the magical flame the mound of corpses was little more than a pile of burning pieces.

Having had enough of the oppressive atmosphere Omar opted for a change of scenery, offhand grabbing his arming sword from where it lay as he wandered off. He rolled his shoulder experimentally; the alchemical poultice and bandaging that Bardiin had applied already alleviating the pain and stiffness of the wound. The drow had told him that it would be a few days before his shoulder was fully healed which worried the smith. Despite the elf's and mage's words he couldn't shake the feeling that more trouble awaited the plucky band at the castle, and that this trouble was organized and violent. He brooded over these doubts as he set about cleaning his blade and mending his armor, the worry all but a dull nagging before he headed off for bed but it still persisted. The group may have proven their capability, but it seemed that trust was still a luxury none of them had to spare.

= = = = =

Petar stared lazily in silence as the fourth log that he had fed to the hearth crumbled, spent of its fuel. The two youths stared at him for a long moment waiting for the older man to continue before the girls patience finally gave. "Umm, Petar?"

"Hmm' Oh' righ", righ", well, i" bae time ta "ead off fer bed now." He rolled his neck and shoulders languidly as arms stretched overhead. He didn't have to look at the girl to imagine the expression upon her face.

"But, the story! We're just about to get to the castle! You can't stop here! Do you need more payment"!" You've drank nearly a bottle of whiskey in just one sitting!"

The girl continued to rant as he finished his stretch, a sidelong glance cast to confirm his suspicions" yup, barely contained outrage marred the girls features while a simply dumbstruck expression held on the elf's face. He'd let the girl rant a little more before he raised a gloved finger to her face to quiet her. She jerked back, that outrage almost turning to action till she caught sight of the stern, steady gaze that he cast. He let the moment sink in before continuing. "As I said" bae time fer bed. I'm old an' I'm tired an' a tha rate this bae goin" I'd be at this till past the roosts rising."

The girl sank back, an uneasy look cast to her companion who shrugged apparently lost for words. A slight humph at the elves lack of helpfulness before she'd turn her attention back to the man, her expression shifting as she prepared to change tactics. Petar cut her off as he wagged his finger side to side. "I'll nae "ear another word on tha matter. If"n ye wish ta "ear tha rest o' this little tale ye know were I'll bae on the eve" o' tha' marrow. Granted o' course Hannelore's generosity continues unto tomorrow?"

Those azures cast a sly look to the tendress who would return a dirty glare to little avail" teach her to stick her nose in others business. The curvy woman looked to raise a complaint when she caught sight of the pleading looks from the two youths. She struggled valiantly to try and say no' but the burning gaze of the two destroyed any resistance she may have had. Giving up she tossed her hands up in the air in surrender. "Alright, alright' I'll bribe the conniving codger tomorrow."

"Don' bae cheap wi' it' I provide quality entertainmen's!" Petar grinned at the woman who looked ready to throw the glass in hand at those time weathered features. A wink of his own given to add insult to injury before those azures turned back to the youths who looked amongst themselves with mild guilt. Ah, they knew exactly what they had done and felt guilt at it' but not enough to stop them. He smirked lightly to himself as he lazily rose to his feet, large form turning for the door.

"So it's a promise, right' You'll continue your story tomorrow evening?" The young elf seemed to have found his voice again. Petar simply waved off the question dismissively.

"Aye, aye, fin" mae tomorrow in fine spirits an' I'll continue. Ye "ave my word." He looked down at the two who seemed to have gotten over their guilt quickly, their expressions full of excitement' ah to be young. With a mild backwards wave offered to the two and the tendress he ambled across the commons and to the door not pausing to catch any of the farewells. Letting the door close behind him he'd pull his leather cloak a little closer to his large form, azures lazily wandering up to the crescent moons that hung high in the sky.

"Hmm' Yylginfras?? He muttered the name under his breath letting it ring softly in the cool night's air. Another look up at the moons and his expression sank into that stoic frown of his as he'd journey off into the night for his home.