Once the enemy had gathered outside to defend the camp, the archers fired, taking out a few of the soldiers among their ranks. They prepared to fire their second volley as Hauft and Asgeir got their spell finished. Immediately, chaos broke out among the normally seasoned troops of the Empire. It was hard to blame them though, fighting off the unnatural phantasms that the mages had concocted. Still, the battle wasn't over until it was over, as evident by the fact that they regrouped right quick after their own mage used light to dispel the shadowy illusions. In short, they were back to, more or less, square one.

His own men had been rigorous, breaking up into squadrons to take on the pockets of defense with the utmost discipline before the enemy managed to regroup and they retreated. The archers had held back fire during the chaos, fearful of harming their comrades needlessly in combat. Now they stood ready, fingers itching on their bows as they held ready to shoot at a moment's notice. The cavalry and infantry had regrouped as well, pulling back for a momentary retreat. The mages, however, were exhausted. It was all they could do to stand after having healed a few of them men of their wounds. Typically the more seriously wounded were tended to, though it was never possible for them to be healed completely.

The decision to charge wasn't an easy one, but it was necessary. If they went back without a clear victory, it would undermine his already tenuous leadership of the camp. No, they needed a victory no matter what. Hand raised in the eerie silence, he let it fall, the cavalry immediately leaping forward atop their horses, lances down while the infantry followed with their swords, axes, shields, and maces. They thundered down the hill while the archers sent off as many volleys of arrows as possible into the fray below, hoping to help as much as possible before it would be impossible to get a clear shot.

He was, unfortunately, left atop the hill with a small detachment of men, ready to advance, or retreat, at a moment's notice. A horn sat at his side, though it would only be used to signal a retreat to the men below. All he could do was wait. Wait and pray.

Sylnae breathed a sigh of relief when she saw the horses saddled and ready. She ducked into her tent briefly to gather her pack, and leave on the table various poultices and remedies for the other healers in camp to use, she knew theyd need them. She left then, lashing her pack behind her saddle before swinging herself up onto her mare. Though her face remained perfectly clear, she was glad to be resting in the saddle after the drain of a large spell-cast. She nodded at Mil, gathering her reins and starting into the trees. Sil set a steady pace, not fast enough to tire the horses needlessly, but one that still ate up the ground beneath them.

At times it was hard going, the thick forest forcing small delays as they pushed through. Sil winced at the path they were leaving, but at the moment, could not even manage a simple concealment enchantment, not at least til she had rested. At an easy place, however, when they rode abrest of each other, Sil looked over at Milwanee's question. "If not your mother, more than likely someone else in the palace who's realized your gone." She ducked under a low-hanging branch, then continued. "There have been no couriers from court regarding you, though, so if they are looking, theyre keeping it quiet."


Commander Celain shouted as an arrow grazed his horse's flank, the beast nearly throwing him. A firm hand on the reins and a good seat brought the paniced horse under control, wheeling the animal around as he shouted commands to his generals. His own infantry tightened formation, sheilds up as they advanced steadily towards the charging horsemen. A moment before impact, they raised pole arms through any gap in the sheilds, taking down the rebel's horses and then the men that had avoided being crushed down by their own mounts. Those that broke through the Imperial ranks with a lucky jump were met with open steel as the short armsmen waded steadily forward to meet the infantry force of the rebels.

Once the rebel forces had engaged his fighters, Celain raised his fist in the air, signaling the flanks of his force, his mounted horsemen who thus far had not entered the main fray. These now jumped forward, horses trained in war to be as dangerous as their riders. One force on either side of the imperial infantry, they circled outwards, dodging arrow fire to come at the rebel infantry from the sides, smashing into their ranks.

Celain had few archers for an elven camp, most of his battles being fought in the trees where archers could rarely get a clear shot. But it served him well to have them now. He could see the man leading the rebels, silhouetted against the sky behind the hilltop. Celain gave curt orders to the Archer-General, and quick to obey, they dropped back from the fighting, taking a score of calvery-men from the Commanders own guard. The archers were mounted as well, but on slender, fast horses trained not for the fight but for agility and speed. These archers and the Guardsmen took to the trees, weaving their way up the hill under cover, only breaking when the archers could get clear shots at the men atop the hill. Then they thundered forward, bows nocked, the guards circling the archers and protecting the detachment from attack.

Mikaila smiled as the wolf led the way. it was a very quiet journey through the woods towards a camp. It was annoying that they had gone back to the same town they had come from, but it seemed that they were making good time anyways. The princess had apparently gotten lost a few times. Raffi had picked up her scent in the direction she had actually gone quite easily with the help of Mikaila's own tracking skills. As they reached the end of their journey, her companion put his hand on her shoulder to warn her of the war near by. She could feel it in her skin that there was something near by before he had even said anything. The tracks led straight to a camp that was practically barren.

Mikaila's male companion went over to the infirmary tent while she studied the tracks. Raffi looked at her as if confused by all the scents around him. He followed her as she studied everything that was going on from what the ground showed. She followed the light trail that the princess left all the way to the tent she was lead to and then back out. She followed the path for a bit until Hroarr came out and told her they would have to go back to the town they had come from. "Thats the way it looks to me." She said confidently. "So lets get going to the town and ill track her again. They mustve diverted off the path or else i wouldve picked up their trail going back there.... Lets get going." She said eagerly. Raffi barked as he sniffed the camp and picked up on the scent he had missed to go back towards the town.

Naturally Aldelros didn't know her background, all he knew about her is that she seemed foolish to him and had 'sticky fingers'. She continued fussing behind him as he pushed toward the tanner's shop front, finally exploding in response to his final comment. Aldelros huffed and looked back at her in complete displeasure. He didn't want to push further, to stir her up more. He just wanted to get these new boots on his feet. The rain was already soaking through the patches in the old leather boots he was wearing, making them just as muddy inside as they looked outside. So close... and then a bed for tonight, warm food, fresh bread from an oven. Such sweet thoughts were not apparent past his scowl, however "Are you finished? Have you made enough of a scene?"

The elf huffed and thought very briefly about scrapping the mud off his boots before re-entering the tanner's shop. He wanted to, to be respectful, but his image wouldn't allow for it, not with the eyes of passers-by that now peered nervously between him and the girl. Instead Aldelros quickly kicked the baseboard of the door way as he stepped in, losing the majority of the mud at the front step rather than in the shop. "Those boots, then."

The tanner nodded his head and pulled them back onto the counter for his customer to take, which is just what he did. Aldelros wasted no time exchanging his old worn boots for these new ones which were incredibly soft and comfortable in comparison. The elf looked up at the tanner who was trying not to make too many faces and get back to watching the shop. He grinned "The leather is from hides from the forest near Escavinn." It's weather worn and abused, but there might still be some value in it you can find. Knowing the use of foreign scraps made the tanner a terrible hoarder, but he accepted the boots as 'part of the payment', though they have previously agreed on that which he had already received.

Mil thought about it “I’m not sure if I’d rather my mother to someone else from the court be looking for me. If my mother ordered it, it means she values me above my siblings and it would make previous arguments hold weight… it would also mean she cares. On the other hand if it someone else it might mean they intend to use me against my mother, or perhaps worse?” She shook her head trying to focus as they continued on. “I should have looked in to these things; I thought it would be easy… but… I know nothing about surviving alone.”

Syl smiled slightly, glancing at Milwanee. "Things are never as easy as they look," She commented dryly. "But until we know for sure, lets assume that you have been followed, and they may not be a friendly courtier. Its hard to imagine that your absence went completely undetected." She gave a begrudging glance behind them, knowing the horses left more of a trail than they would on foot. But once they reached open ground they would move faster, and hopefully Syl could rest before they set out again.. In which case, she might be able to cover much of their trail. Looking to the sky, she gauged how long they had to the village. "We should be there by early evening."

Sunset was kind to Telnarsoth. It painted the sky in sweeping strokes of peach and mauve, and graced the dusky violet clouds with a lining of brilliant cerise. The muddy puddles in the street reflected the glory of the sky, atoning somewhat for the hazards they presented to anyone passing by. Rays of fading golden light softened the rough walls of the buildings, and disguised the disrepair of aging thatch on the rooftops. The whole effect turned the ugly, tired town into something picturesque to catch the eye of a passing artist or the imagination of a poet.

Hroarr was neither artist nor poet. His reaction to the sight of Telnarsoth's sun-gilded streets was a grunt of mild annoyance that the well-traveled condition of the mud was unlikely to reveal any trace of the princess's tracks. Only mild annoyance, though. He had expected no less, and the princess and her new friend would almost certainly take shelter in an inn. Even if they didn't, someone in town would notice them and know which direction they went. Travelers on horseback meant money, and money might mean a sale, so every shop owner and barkeep in town would have seen them. Speaking of barkeeps... "Inn first."

The inn was much the same as it had been last night. Warm, smoky, and full of scent. Hroarr headed for the table he'd sat at last night and waved over the barmaid. "Ale, bread, stew."

She nodded and when they got to town she dismounted the horse, walking with her hand on his maw. She loved Marquis, she looked to Syl, Milwanee was worried and being close to her stead did little to comfort her as she spoke. “What are we to do to keep me hidden, are you going back now?” She had said we because secretly she hoped Syl would say she wasn’t but part of her knew she might. She didn’t say much more only waited for a response. She knew if she was followed and it came to a fight she was nowhere near skilled enough to win; she looked around the town, the sun had only just begun to set and she was already tired, the day had been long for her with the rush after waking and the long hours of riding.

Mikaila had lost the trail a little ways into the forest which was really humiliating for her. She never wanted the male to think she couldnt track, but it was hard when they went off the trail and the mud was becoming so soft it made the tracks literally unable to be seen. With a sigh, she walked to the town with the male as though nothing was wrong. Unfortunately i will never be able to find her in this town. There are too many of them to differentiate from. If she had said it out loud, the male probably would have laughed and said of course she wouldn't be able to find the girl. They were at the town now which was even more annoying. All they really had to do to find the girl was to stay in the town. Now what would happen would probably be that they would have to ask around the town to see where she was staying.

Interrupting her thoughts, the male said they should go to the inn. This place was so familiar that she decided to go and sit with the male again. Once they sat down, she watched as Raffi walked back over to the fire and curled up. The barmaid came over at Hroarr's beck and call. She smiled as he said his order flat out, then looked at Mikaila. "And for you?"

"I'll take the same. And a bowl of meat." She said smiling at the woman as she left. "You seem very distracted. What do you think we should do now?" she said quietly.

"Sorry. I'm used to travelling alone." It was an abrupt apology, but still more of one than Hroarr was accustomed to giving. It was also perfectly true. He wasn't used to needing to explain himself to people, and Mikaila's quietness had echoed his own for most of the day. That could be a bad habit when I go home. People are more likely to follow a friendly king than a dour one, no matter how much gold he has. He organized his thoughts and smiled at the elven girl.

"As for what we do now, we eat. And drink, and get warm and dry. And we watch. This is the only inn in town, so she's likely to come here. If she doesn't, we'll go around first thing in the morning and ask questions of the shopkeepers." Hroarr's smile turned into a grin as a thought occurred. "And the stables. Hostlers are up at all hours, and one of them is bound to have noticed a horse that size."

The barmaid returned with their meals, and Hroarr handed her coins to amply cover Mikaila's meal as well as his own. He held his mug of ale out to the elf. "To success!"

Seeing that the soldiers below were teetering back and forth as on the precipice of defeat and victory, Jaikar could only grip his saddle tightly, knuckles white as he watched. The guard around him was easily able to defeat the Imperials' attempt at storming them, and neither side was effective with their archers due to the tumult and general chaos occurring between them.

Pounding his fist on his thigh, he turned back to the two mages, Hauft and Asgeir. "Can you get off another spell yet, or do you need more time?" he hollered over the din of the battle: steel clashing on steel, horses whinnying, and men screaming.

A slight nod. Then: "If we pool our strength together, we might be able to get one off," Hauft said, panting as sweat dripped off of his brow.

"Could you use my energy as well?" he asked, frowning. This battle needed to be theirs in order for the Rebellion to have any hope of winning the war at all. Another nod. "Fine, take as much as you need to disrupt their troops." As the mages laid their hands on his broad shoulders, however, he pulled out the horn and let out a short, high-pitched note. It was their sign for magic. They would know not to panic when the mages... did whatever it was they were planning on doing.

A sudden emptiness was all he felt as his vision swam, revealing balls of light, flickering as if made of fire, shot down from the sky, suddenly appearing dark from the brightness of the orbs, among the troops. It was a clever illusion, but the mages were nearly spent, and it wouldn't last much longer. Hopefully they could pull off a victory before the illusion faded and the Imperials managed to regroup again. But not even that thought was enough to keep him awake, his body succumbing to the demand that his mind didn't feel.

Syl smiled a bit as they walked, turning her head towards Milwanee. "No, Ive decided I will not abandon you. There is a healer in this town I know of from years long ago, and he will be able to take my place in the camp." Under her breath, she muttered softly, "If he hasnt burned his house down by now, he should still be here at least." She chuckled a bit as they walked on, and she steered them away from the densely populated areas as best she could.

When they came to a thin side street, Syl stopped at a building that looked more akin to a tumbled pile of blocks than anything resembling a house. She thumped loudly on the door, pausing briefly to listen then knocking again. After a few long moments, a reedy voice hollared from inside, "Who is it? I'm busy!"

Syl's response was to thump harder, an amused look on her face as she called back, "No you're not, you doddering old man."

And at that the door near about flew off it's hinges, an exceptionally old elf standing in the doorway, his snow-white hair frizzed out in wild clumps around his head. He carried a staff in one hand, bright blue eyes still sharp despite his years. "Doddering? I can still cast circles around y-" his eyes fixed on Milwanee, and he tottered past Syl, using the staff as a walking stick. "And who might you be young lady?" he asked sharply, though something in his eyes seemed like he already knew.

Syl didnt let Milwanee answer him, interrupting, "Inside, Cephen. This isnt a conversation for your doorstep."
Instantly the old man grinned widely, casting shifty looks about as if someone would leap out of the bushes at them. "On the run, eh Syl, eh?" He hobbled farther out, shooing them inside and holding out a wrinkled hand for the reins to their horses. "Not to worry, not to worry ol' Cephen will take care of ye. Hush hush and mums the word." He strode off, and as soon as he thought they couldnt see him (they could, easily), his back straightened and his gait became much lengthier, no more hobbling and leaning on the staff.

Syl smiled slightly and opened the door wider for Mil, ushering her in and giving her a bit of reassurance. For surely, the first time one met Cephan it was a trifle unsettling. "He used to be my mentor, and a better cleric and mage I've not had the pleasure to meet yet. We should be fine here tonight, and he has room for the horses with his own."

Mil jumped when she first knocked and then when the male appeared and moved right over to her she shrunk against her stead. She was happy that Syl would be staying with her and this was enough to keep her confident as to not shake in the presence. It was then she realized something about herself, besides the guards and her brother’s she had never been in the presence of a man of any age, and all her guards were female. She was sheltered in this way and she hoped this wouldn’t affect her too much.

As she was ushered in she kept silent until Syl spoke to her, this time explaining her relationship with the older male. She broke out in a gentle smile. “I see, if he is your mentor he must be a great man.” She was glad to know he had somewhere to keep Marquis, and that they had somewhere to rest for the night. “Perhaps he has seen my brother too?” She was desperately clinging to the rumor, mostly because it meant he was so close, and it would be even better if it turned out true.

When Cephen finally returned she spoke to Syl, “I trust him because he is your mentor.” She turned bowing her head and curtsy speaking softly. “My name is Milwanee, and I am the youngest daughter of the Empress, it’s a pleasure to meet you sir.”

Mikaila smiled at the male as he apologized. "No thats ok. No need to apologize. I'm usually alone too. So i understand." Raffi seemed to have heard her as she spoke and lifted his head and whined to her. "OH well not alone, but you know what i mean." She said smiling. Quietly, the male answered her question on what they should do now. The answer made her very happy. Since the two of them had started out, she had still been a little nervous about being near someone since she hadn't been in quite a while. Her ability to talk to the male was definitely getting better. The male just continued to make her comfortable around him even though he was so distant. "Sounds like a plan." She said happily. Their food came and she was about to pull out some money for it, but it seemed her male companion had it all covered. "Thank you." She said as he paid. "I owe you." The bowl of meat, she placed down for Raffi to eat, who decided to walk over to the table as soon as the food had come. The male held up his mug to her and she mimiced his motions, putting her mug in the air. "To success!" She said along with him. A smile crossed her face as she drank from the mug once they put it down. It was nice that he wasnt looking at her as if she were just an elf now. Taking a drink of the ale, she almost spit it out. It wasnt exactly what she was expecting. It had been a popular drink among everyone, whereas she had only ever had water, but being with the male she just wanted to try it. Maybe it would taste like apples or something. Nope she was dead wrong. Her eyes had gone wide as she swallowed the gulp she had taken. Maybe she would even get use to it if she drank it more often. Who knew.

"You are working for me. It is only right that I provide your meals." Hroarr drank deeply of the rich bitter ale, and almost choked when he saw Mikaila's reaction to hers. He managed not to laugh, but couldn't hide an amused twinkle in his eye. He flagged down the barmaid again and whispered something to her, and she returned before Mikaila could take a second taste of the ale. The smaller mug now placed on the table filled the air with honey and ripe strawberries. "Ale is an acquired taste. Try that instead. It's supposed to be mead brewed with fruit."

Never did meet an elf who drank ale. But then, if you live forever I suppose you don't mind waiting for wine to age. He began eating his stew, sopping up the broth with chunks of the tavern's chewy but flavorful bread. "I wonder how much trouble it would cause if I kidnapped this cook when I head back North..."

The streets were quieting down as darkness started to pull the first of many veils over the sky. Here and there people would skitter out of Aldelros' way as he made for the inn, the narrow back streets and alleys acting as the current. Throughout the day he had made a number of visits to particular individuals he had some interest in whether it was for their skills or exotic merchandise he'd use in exchange for other things. People like him were the boons of human craftsmen still wise in working with the spirits and he sought to employ them much sooner than he would an elven craftsman.

The iron pegs complained as he pushed open the oak door that separated the tavern from the street so he might step in. It was already smoky and dim within various corners, some occupied by certain characters -a few shadier than others- while most of the room won it's light from the wide fireplace and various candles. A short number of strides put 'Rynegest' next to the counter where he deposited enough coinage for a room and bread, having won a few more coins after that morning's run in. The keeper nodded and passed him a key before hurrying off to get the rest of his purchase.

The hearty language of the North-man drew the elf's attention. His company was strange, an elven girl, who as it appeared was nearly ill because of the ale in her stein. There was a story there, certainly, and while he was curious he didn't want to spend his evening wondering about anything besides that pillow and those sheets that were waiting for him upstairs.

Aldelros' eyes darted back to the barkeeper and took his bread to a table not too far from the fire. It's dancing warmth dried some of the lingering dampness out of his hair while his teeth cut into the flavorful bread. It was definitely the same baker as his previous visits. She had a great talent, that one, not that he had seen much of the girl in the years he'd been through, but he knew she was a fiery personality when one day she chased the barkeeper out of the back in a rain of hard rolls. Telnarsoth was a very different place than Sidera. As more jokes came from the North-man the elf couldn't help but get to thinking about the strangeness of further places like Heobryt. He left his eyes linger on the man for a while while he thought.

Mikaila was surprised by the response the male provided from her saying he didnt have to pay for her. He saw the look on her face from the first taste of ale, she got really embarrassed and looked away, holding the mug tightly in her lap. He was about to laugh at her, she could see it. Before she could take a second taste, another mug was placed down right in front of her. The fruity smell of the drink made her smile as he described what it was. She looked up at her partner in wonder as she put down the mug she had been holding so tightly to. Taking the other mug, she was hesitant about drinking it but once she did, she took a sip, her eyes lit up and she took another one. "It tastes like real fruit!!!" She said happily. She started to eat her stew as well now that she had a drink. It was strange as she did so. There was a feeling as if eyes were stuck on the two of them. The loud ruckus of the tavern kept her knowing that her words hadn't been heard by most. She took some of the bread and swiped it across the stew, while she subtly started to scan the crowds. As she needed to look more behind her to continue scanning, she noticed that Raffi had finished with his food. She leaned over and pet him as he seemingly smiled (as only a dog can) up at her. She kissed his head and then looked directly at the male who was staring at the pair. Their eyes locked. It must have just been dumb luck that when she looked up she locked eyes with him, but it didnt matter. The male had been staring at her and Hroarr, but she noticed that he was mostly looking at her partner.

The elf girl looked back at her partner then back at the male before kissing Raffi on the head once more and taking the plate from the floor and placing it on the table. Then she looked back up at the North-man and smiled, laughing at the comment he made. "Hahaha You'd probably get chased down by a lot of happy customers and the tavern employees themselves, But it might be worth it hahahaha.... She is a really good cook." Continuing to eat her stew, she wanted to forget that the male had been staring at the two, but she just couldnt get rid of the feeling of him staring from the tingling in her back.

The old man gave a gap-toothed smile at Milwanee, possibly more unsettling than reassuring. "Of course you are dearie." He nodded sagely, head bobbing like a bird's. "I used to take care of your older siblings, matter of fact. You were just a babe when I left the palace life, though.. Too much bowing and scraping to the nobles for my old back." He gave her a cock-eyed stare, the sharp eyes belying his years as he added, "And I bet I know what you're looking for, too. Ol' Cephan will be glad to help you out if'n he can." He third person references came and went, much as he did as he dissapeared into one of the various doors in the strange haphazard house. Not a moment later, his head popped out of a different door, and he beckoned them to follow him into it with one crow-like hand.

Syl smiled, and strangely, she seemed more at ease here than she had been anywhere else. She whispered softly to Mil as they followed Cephan through the door into a cramped kitchen, "Dont worry- he acts crazier than he really is. But if he says he can help, he may know something of your siblings."

"Sit down dearies," and he gestured expansively at a small rickety table, "And have some soup I just cooked up." He flounced around the kitchen, setting out bowls and filling them with a strange-looking soup, that nonetheless smelled delicious. He himself soon plopped down across from them, and fixed Mil with his beady eyes. "Came here looking for someone, didnt you dear?"

Hroarr finished his bowl of stew in a leisurely manner, washing it down with the ale. When his own tankard was empty, he thriftily rescued the one Mikaila had rejected. It wasn't until the bowl was empty and the last crumb of bread devoured that he noticed the elf watching him.

The elf looked slender and underfed-- but then all elves looked slender and underfed to Hroarr. This particular one at least looked as if he could survive outside of civilization, which raised him considerably in the Northman's opinion. He rose further by meeting Hroarr's eyes instead of looking away when he was caught staring.

The eye contact was broken by the bustling return of the barmaid to collect their plates. The barbarian smiled at her warmly to make up for his brusqueness from before. "More ale. And some of that bread with butter, and whatever the lass here wants. Oh, and a bowl of stew for the lad behind you. He looks anemic, and we wouldn't want him to pass out."

The small pile of coins was worth more than enough to pay for Hroarr's requests and leave a smile on the maid's face as she pocketed them. She even giggled a little when she placed the stew in front of Rynegest. "From the gentleman over there..."

The smile didn’t scare or unsettle the young princess; mostly because she recalled some elders from her youth being rather similar in appearance, she was glad to hear he had taken care of some of her older siblings, it meant he might recognize them. She followed when he beckoned, having paused when Syl talked and nodded in response.

Mil raised the bowl to her nose to sniff it when she smelt it she tasted it a bit, smiling softly, “Wow delicious…” she looked over to him when he spoke and laughed slightly. “Yes, my missing siblings, I want to find them and ask them why they left… and never returned any of my letters…” adding, “I’m sure the letters reached them, as I did get a response once… just telling me they weren’t coming home not how they were or where they were…” she’d sigh playing with the soup slightly. “I’m not sure if I will be able to return home after this either…”

Aldelros was not happy to have people obviously eying him back. What was it their business who he was? They were the outsiders, weren't they? His eyes seemed to harden with Mikaila's quizical glance which transferred quickly to the Northman. When they both looked away he finished off his bread and looked to the other patrons. When a few people start looking in a direction others tend to do the same, and he certainly didn't need that.

When the barmaid came by with the stew Aldelros was completely beside himself. Nothing like this had happened to him before, not in Telnarsoth at least. Quietly he thanked the woman and looked directly where she had indicated. This was the North-man's doing. His elven eyes scanned them man more critically this time- was this poisoned? Did he have the staff in his pocket? More importantly... did he know and what was it to him?

Aldelros got out of his chair and brought his stew and kit over to Hoarr and Mikaila's table. For a moment he just stood over them there to not appear as demanding as he wanted to be. Finally, when there seemed to have been enough pause between their conversation he cut in: "What is this? Why are you giving me this, North-man?" His voice was quiet but clear in a manner that almost sounded exotic. Certainly his clothing would imply that he had traveled a great deal if one had the sense for such things. Here and there were various pieces collected on his excursions through the Empire. "And what brings you so deep into Sindlarei?"

He took heed to keep a bit of a distance from the elven girl in his company in case she had the same sticky fingers as the last elven woman he had encountered that day.

Hroarr raised a brow at the rugged-looking elf. Rynegest's indignation amused the barbarian, and he made a point of taking his time to answer. A sip of ale, a stretch... propping his feet on the table. "As I told the barmaid, you looked like you could use a decent meal, instead of bread and a little fruit. I didn't want you ruining the night by passing out in front of everyone."

The elf was more interesting up close... It was odd to see one so well-traveled. Or at least, odd to see one who wasn't dressed as if they belonged to one particular area. This one wore a shirt like the desert herders wore, and knife at his belt looked like Red Hand design, with red, black, and white cords wrapped in an intricate pattern around the hilt. "I'm a mercenary. What's your excuse, traveler? I doubt you're from around here, either."

The bread arrived, and Hroarr dropped the conversation to savor the hot fresh bread dripping with butter.

Cephan peered at her, one eyebrow raised. "You might not like their answers." he said mildly. "I might know where you could find one, if he stayed in town tonight. But for you, Princess, it would be dangerous to show your face, for it is memorable." He gestured to her bowl. "Eat your soup, I know you'll probably want to regardless of what I say."

Syl looked between the two, silent thus far. She hadnt expected that, for sure. Off in another town, perhaps. But right around the corner it sounded more like.

Mil listened to what he said and downed the soup without a thought when he told her that. She hadn’t expected to like their answers; it was partially why she thought she might not return home after. She thought of her face and touched it repeating quietly “memorable?” she hadn’t ever thought her face stood out, her clothes, the way she held herself… but her looks? She sighed thinking. “I of course will go anyway… I’ll… cover my face… wear a cloak… anything I have to see whoever is in town right now… who is it?!” she was already standing up as she spoke now; looking to Syl with a smile, she’d helped more than she could ever imagine she would have.

Her heart raced and so did her head, she wondered who it would be and if they’d recognize her… if she’d recognize them… if they’d talk to her. There was so much going on in her head that she got a bit light headed for a second before focusing on what was going on at the right there and then. “Where?” she said softly after composing herself, “Where may I find this sibling of mine?”

Mikaila watched as the elven male walked over and asked why Hroarr had given him so much food on their tab. She was about to defend him from the rude elf, but her cheeks turned red and she almost didnt even want to be in the room anymore. There were too many people hear and it was so weird talking to others. Looking as though she was trying to hide herself, she went back to eating her own food as Raffi walked over to comfort her. He seemingly knew that she was very uncomfortable while the elf and her companion talked with each other. Something that she had noticed was that the male kept her distance from her. This seemed rude to her as she tried to figure out why he was keeping his distance. She didnt smell at al. She had made sure that she didnt, besides the fact that she didnt wear much clothing as it was.
The bread Hroar had asked for had finally come which made her want to eat more which was pretty funny since Hroarr had said she was such a tiny little creature. What was it that this male thought that made him keep his distance from her. "Excuse me sir.... Did I do something to you in a past life or something? Theres no need to keep a disatance from me. I'm harmless. If you would like, I will move over so you may sit with us if that is what you wish." She couldnt believe that the words had just flowed through her mouth. This had never happened before. Maybe being in the company of Hroarr really was helping her. What was even stanger was that her dialect had been very formal which had never happened before. Was there something her body knew that she didnt?