"I live but to serve the cause." Malyn bowed to hide his satisfied smile. This was better than perfect! Granted, it had never occurred to him to have something like this generally announced, but the advantages were so obvious it was amazing he hadn't thought of them before! The aristocracy would be thrown into a panic when they found out the princess had defected, the common folk would think it romantic but also lose trust in a system that was opposed even by its ruling family. And wavering rebel sympathizers would make their decisions and flock to the camps, where they would be easy to find in the final phase of the grand plan.

It was intoxicating seeing all of his plans fall together so beautifully, but Malyn restrained his glee. By the time he raised up from his dramatic bow his expression was smooth again except for a faint smile that could be pleasure at Jaikar's thanks. "I am honored beyond words by your appreciation, General, and sorry I have no more news of note. I'm also sorry I must leave so soon, but avoiding bandit activity delayed my arrival here, and I truly must get back before my absence is noted and remarked upon. I wish you fortune on the morrow's battle."

'Of course, I didn't specify 'good' fortune, did I?' Malyn smiled again as he let himself out of Jaikar's office and headed for the waiting horse and the now-unladen mules. It would be a hard ride back to the capitol... although perhaps a stop was in order on the way. He knew a secluded stream where he could wash the dye from his hair and change his clothing-- it wouldn't do to appear at an Imperial Army camp in the persona of Malyn Lithar, of course. No, for the soldiers to listen it would require a visit from Lord Teldarion.

"Of course, Malyn," Jaikar replied, inwardly muting the sense that something was off with the man. After all, what did it matter if he was a little strange? Nothing so long as he continued to supply such information and supplies as he had done in the past. "Soldiers, escort Sir Lithar back to the front gate. Then return to your duties." They gave a salute before opening the door for Malyn and following him out.

Shortly after the strange man had left, there was a creak from the floor boards at the top of the stairs as Itzli began to descend. The dark brown shirt she wore had been the smallest size that the army had carried and still swam on her, though a belt managed to contain parts of it from moving too freely. Her seemingly ever-present apron was missing, probably left behind at the forge the night before. She yawned as she came to the chair next to Jaikar, curling up into it as comfortably as possible.

"Good morning, sunshine," he said, chuckling as she gave him a look. "Morning person" was not an accurate description of Itzli by any stretch of the imagination. As she woke up, he went about trying to gather papers and maps together to give the two of them room to eat breakfast on the table. With the knowledge that comes from serving someone for months, Thimyla came bearing breakfast, a few other servants in tow.

"Thank you, Thimyla. Personally, I'm starving," he said, sitting down across from Itzli. The bowl of oatmeal and berries was placed in front of him, giving off a heavenly scent all the while. The herbal tea also had quite the scent, though they only served to make their stomachs growl louder. The meal was, subsequently, gone in minutes. However, the two of them continued to chat and just enjoy each others' presence for a good while after the bowls had been taken away from the table.

Eventually, they were forced to end their conversation. "I'll be supervising some of the soldiers in drill and observing the camp if you need me for anything," Jaikar said as they walked out the front door together. A nod was the only indication Itzli gave that she had heard, her timid shell coming back on as she entered the public eye. It was rather sad, but a life of slavery was bound to do that to a person. He couldn't afford to dwell on stuff like that though, so he shook it from his mind as he made his way to the first squad.

Syl reached back to stroke the horse after it nudged her, but her eyes were focused on examining the figures standing about the fires. Frankly, she was grateful theyd made it back safely to camp. She was never concerned about her small lights, but she also didnt usually wander as far nor speak - let alone raise her voice to call out, or have an actual conversation in woods filled with enemies. Taking the bridle, Syl looked up at the princess. "I guessed you only to be close with the imperial court at first - you are correct in thinking your garments and trappings give you away upon inspection." She nodded briefly at the girl's second question, then motioned for her to hush as she led Marquis through the tents of the soldiers.

She kept them out of direct firelight, and the few soldiers who noticed Sylnae and her follower gave Syl only a brief nod, then kept a wide berth. She breathed her first sigh of relief as they reached her tent, a plain white decorated only with a bar of green trim. There was a tie-post outside her tent, convenient for the heavy traffic she received during the daytime. To this she looped Marquis' reins securely to as the princess dismounted. Turning, she surveyed Milwanee briefly before lifting the flap to the tent, inviting her inside.

The inside was sparse, two cots for critical patients lay empty along one side of tent, her own fur-covered cot along the far side. The remaining space was taken by a work table, covered in various dried herbs and tiny vials of liquid remedies, a padlocked chest underneath it. A small fire burned in the center of the tent, giving light and heat needed for boiling water or herbal concoctions. Onto the table she set the bag of fresh herbs she'd gone out for originally. Finally she turned to look at Milwanee, her emerald eyes glittering in the firelight. "My apologies M'lady for cutting our conversation short earlier. We were not safe, and I doubt whatever you are here for is to be captured by rebels or bandits."

She kept her head down as they went about the camp; she was all too aware of the risks being caught by most people would cause. She took the invitation both off Marquis and in to the tent, she was in awe at it. She looked at the two cots, then the third. Finally her eyes settled on the fire and she moved forward grateful for its heat. Not caring about how she looked for now, she had been cold and the fire felt wonderful. She listened to what Syl had. “Please just call me Milwanee here, I don’t want someone to overhear. I know my mother is keeping the fact I left a secret… and no my goal is not to be captured, although if I find out what I am looking for is with them, we will have to see.”

She gave a gentle smile and shed the outer layer of her royal garments so she was sat in the under skirt and bodice piece, that were significantly dryer then the dress that she wore over the top. “I am sorry to ask about clothes, but as you said before, my current clothing makes it obvious I am important to the imperial court, I didn’t think about this until after I left…”

The stream was icy cold, and the soap that removed the henna was harsh and strong-smelling, but those were minor inconveniences easily ignored. In a remarkably brief period of time Malyn Lithar was washed away and replaced by... not Tormalyndar Teldarion. During the long ride it had occurred to him that it would be too suspicious for one of the highest members of government to just walk into a camp with news. No, instead he was wearing a careful combination of Malyn's grey and Tormalyndar's garnet to make himself look like a minor member of House Teldarion, out to help his patron by delivering this important news. A bit of makeup gave him a more youthful look, aided by a softer hairstyle and the fact that he'd only be seen by starlight or lamplight.

Darentor ev'Teldarion, as he had decided to call himself, strode up to the sentries, leading his horse and with his head held high. Not waiting for them to ask his business, he directed his gaze on the one who looked highest-ranking. "I am here to see your commander. I have important news from High Lord Teldarion."

The sentry opened his mouth to object, then closed it when Darentor flashed a sheet of parchment with the Teldarion seal. No one sane would copy the seal of one of the High families. They were nearly as sacred as the Imperial seal. "Please, sir... come with me."

Darentor walked with the sentry, keeping his head held high and looking at the world down his long aristocratic nose. It was a ridiculous pose, but presented the kind of self-important prig he was intending to be. Unfortunately for him, perhaps, it also limited his range of vision. If he had not been wearing such a supercilious expression, he might have noticed the unusually large, well-bred horse standing by the healer's tent.

The camp's commander was gratifyingly respectful, despite having been awoken from a sound sleep to speak with the ev-Lord. "How can I help you, sir?"

"I am Darentor ev'Teldarion. I was sent by my uncle to warn you that the rebels will attack on the morrow." Darentor set the parchment on the rickety table in front of the commander. "One of the house magi had a lucky vision."

"A-attack!?" The commander sprang to attention. "Thank you for the news, milord! Is there anything we can do for you?"

"Nothing but crush the filthy rebels. I must go on to the next outpost, but we are fairly certain this will be the one attacked." Darentor stood and headed for the door. "I must hurry. I will barely have time to make all the camps I must warn before dawn."

The commander was already waking up the camp as Darentor left, and the incognito elf didn't bother to hide his satisfied smirk. It was wonderful when a plan came together.

"No m'lady, you have asked several times and I would have brought you elsewhere if I could not help you." a faint smile graced her words, the first to be seen, and quickly gone. Something about caring for the princess made her soften as she usually did not. She went to the cot that was her own, crouching to retrieve a small trunk that held her personal items. She retrieved from them simple woolen robes, that matched her own except in the cut of the dress. Plain white with various designs in emerald, they were well-made, though simple. "I believe these will fit you," she said, turning about and pushing the trunk back with her foot, "Though we might need to take in the hem for you." She handed them to the girl, then addressed her frankly once again. "And I would choose a nickname, Milwanee, for even that will give you away."

Syl lifted her head, lights flaring in the camp and muffled orders were being given outside. As soon as the girl was dressed, at least, Sylnae needed to go see what was going on. Most of the soldiers resented night duty, and nothing would rouse them unless there had been news of an incoming attack.

Milwanee looked at the dress and nodded, changing without hesitation, then Syl left, commotion filling the camp she stepped out, the dress did fit her in most ways and she hated to admit it but she genuinely liked how it looked on her, more than the grandeur of before. She watched Syl walk off and headed back inside, she followed her like a lost puppy and when she got the chance she told her on what she had decide. “Mil…” it was a nickname, one she had endeared from her older siblings. She knew if her missing siblings were to hear it they would know who she was, yet none who didn’t know her wouldn’t recognize it as her name. She moved slowly keeping close to Syl at all points eventually asking the question that had been bugging her for the last few minutes. “What is going on?”

Originally Posted by Wyrmskyld

"I was born among the Keits. We live on the other side of the Tuerings from the Skultings." He frowned. "The Tuerings were always cheap when it came to gifts... but I hope the Skultings don't conquer them. They made a good buffer to keep the Skultings from attacking us."

Hroarr shrugged and waved at the barmaid to refill his drink. "I've been away a long time now, though. Fifteen years... I'll be home next year, though. This job should net me enough to go home and become a king."

His eyes grew distant as he considered the future. Find one pampered runaway princess, and then go home. Home with chests and bags of gold that he'd had crafted into rings and jewelry. He'd never understand why these southerners wanted coins. Coins were hard to carry and heavy, and who would know you were wealthy without first stealing your purse? Jewelry was easier to carry-- a torc here, a few rings there, and the weight was nicely distributed, even if there was a lot of it. Hroarr knew he would be returning with more gold than he could wear-- more than he could carry! But it would soon be gracing the hands and arms and necks of his friends, who would swear fealty to him for the chance at more. The Keiting king was weak now, and old. Hroarr would take over, and bring his people to glory.

Deep in his fantasy, the Northman forgot about the girl across from him until she spoke again.

Mikaila looks at the male as he seems to go off into his own little world. He was born with the Kelts. She had always wanted to meet the Kelts. A lot of the people who were running from the Skultings moved towards her home and lived there as refugees. Many of her friends were from those villages. They were such an interesting bunch. They had their adventures in the woods all the time, the kelts were a bit more agressive, but she didnt mind that at all.

As soon as she pulled her own thoughts away from the past, she noticed that he was still off in the distance with his thoughts.The male seemed to be so far lost in his own thoughts, she didnt know how to pull him out of it. Being the awkward girl she is, she leaned over the table and tapped his shoulder twice to see if she could pull him out of it. People started to stare at her funny. Why was such a small girl, poking such a large male in his muscular arms? Was she his daughter or something?

"Excuse me. Um... I'm guessing that you wish to go back home. I can see it on your face." She said taking another gulp of her water until it was all gone. Her meat was nearly finished as she looked down at Raffi, wondering if he were just as satisfied as she. "I'm a pretty good tracker. Maybe i could help you find some game to sell so you can get enough to go back home. I've never lost game yet." She said triumphantly. Maybe asking if he wanted help getting some game, she could slowly place herself in his grip to help him find that princess of his. Who knows? One thing that would have made the conversation extremely awkward was if she had told him downright that she had been eavesdropping on his conversation. Though she had never really talked to people often, she knew how awkward that would get.

Raffi looked up at her and turned his head as if confused by her words of helping the male.

Hroarr shook himself out of his reverie and eyed the hand tapping his shoulder, amused at the girl's audacity. Most people were too intimidated to touch or even approach him-- it was refreshing to see someone who wasn't. "Tracking game, you say...?"

He considered the girl carefully, noting that she looked tough despite being thin. The wolf was definitely an asset, as well, and his own tracking skill was rather minimal. It went against the grain to split the commission, but he really did need help. "Are you against tracking a human? There's a missing girl I'm trying to find before she runs into too much trouble. I can pay well."

PHEW! He didnt know that that was her intent in the first place. The male seemed rather amused that she had talked about her tracking skill and even that she had touched him. Maybe he was angry that she had touched him, but if he was, he was really good at hiding it. Mikaila looked over at Raffi as he snorted and looked up at her as if he were saying really? You couldn't have just asked him about it? But he was a wolf. There was no way for him to communicate with her. Quickly, she snapped out of it and eyed him.

"I'm in." She said quickly. "He seems to be up for it also." The reward hit her head a few seconds after she agreed, but she shook it off. Finding the princess was much better than talking about some reward the male was going to be getting. "So when do we leave to find her?"

"At first light. Which means we should turn in." Hroarr drained his tankard and stood, being careful not to trip over the wolf, and dropped a couple of coins on the table as a tip for the serving wench. He never begrudged money that would make his life easier, and well-tipped servers would happily go out of their way for you. "If you don't have a room you can share mine. I find inn beds much too soft to be comfortable, anyway."

Sylnae left while the girl changed, speaking briefly with the commander and several officers. Upon returning to her tent, she quickly unsaddled Marquis, bringing the imperial-marked tack inside the tent with her, placing it out of the way, and out of direct sight, behind the desk. She moved around the tent for a few moments more before she seemed to notice Milwanee following her. Resisting the urge to snap at her, Syl sighed and motioned for her to come sit beside her on the empty cots. It seemed that without meaning to, she'd picked up a charge who was going to need her help, and not of the medicinal sort. "Mil? Very well." She looked at Mil closely, surveying the girl. The robes fit her well, although they were indeed a bit too long. After a moment to collect her thoughts, she answered. "The commander has received word that we are to come under attack tomorrow, perhaps tonight if the rebels arrive early."

She let Mil digest that for a moment, then said, "If you wish to remain here, we will have a few details to take of so that you are not discovered.. For the Commander would surely send you home. I dont mean to pry, but I could aide you better if I knew why you were here." Even inside her tent, Syl's voice was pitched low, for the walls of a tent did not always mean privacy.

Mikaila smiled towards the male. "First light sounds great. I do have a room, but thank you for the offer." She says as she stands up from the table, dropping coins on the table herself for the serving wench. Clicking her teeth, Raffi stands up immediately, looking at her and moving out of the way of the male. "I will see you in the morning." She said with a smile. As soon as he left, she went towards her room as well. It was a very small room, but she didnt mind it at all. The bed was very comfortable when she laid down on it, placing her pack on the ground next to her and her chakram under her pillow. She never really believed in swords, but the curved blade was perfect for her. Especially because it split into two parts so that she could dual wield. Other than this particular weapon, a bow was the only thing she was really proficient in other than using a knife for gutting and skinning.

Raffi lay down on the end of the bed, where her feet were when she laid down to sleep. She fell asleep as Raffi kept watch on the door, though his eyes were closed.

Milwanee sighed softly listening to it all; she could tell she had annoyed Syl by following her. “I’m looking for my brothers who left before me…” she said softly. “So I can’t stay long but I don’t think I will be leaving as soon as tonight… if that is okay…” She smiled gently having sat where and when motioned to; she was used to on some levels doing as she was told and her fingers slowly played with the fabric of the skirt, it wasn’t soft and hurt her nails slightly but she didn’t care.

Sylnae tilted her head as Mil explained herself, a habit she had when listening. When she stopped, Sylnae slowly tapped her slender fingers against her knees, thinking. "This battalion is on the front lines, we move around a lot. Its not safe, but it might be safer than wandering in the woods, at least until you hear firm news of your siblings' whereabouts." Most might try to stop Mil from leaving at all, but Syl knew what it was to have an independent streak. "You can stay as long as you need - noone would question if I acquired an apprentice." Her lips quirked in a half smile at that. She'd had several, actually, before now - its just that none of them stayed after being on the receiving end of a tongue-lashing.

Milwanee smiled and nodded “I’d like that very much,” she said softly before yawning. “I hate to be bother but I am very tired…” If Syl said nothing more she make sure she wasn’t laying on Syl’s cot before laying down, she had seen all her stuff had been moved in to the tent. “perhaps it would be best to wait for news, I was hoping my brother and I would meet, like in stories, I would find him by just bumping in to him, I guess that was too foolish of me…” Once she was sure Syl would say no more she fell asleep drifting in to a deep peaceful sleep.

She smiled briefly and stood, gathering extra furs for Milwanee, laying them next to her. "You never know, perhaps you will." she blinked, realizing she had forgotten a simple courtesy. "And my name is Sylnae, dont hesitate to ask if you need aught from me." She left Mil's side then, adding only, "Sleep well, Lady."

She moved to her work bench, quietly unpacking her gathered herbs and beginning preparations for tomorrow. Small empty vials slowly filled with crushed herbs, Syl working patiently long into the night. Thoughts tumbled about her head, both of the princess and what the day might bring. She stood slowly after a time, unkinking her back with a stretch before banking the glowing fire. Laying down however brought little rest, for Syl slept fitfully, oft waking at the slightest noise- a habit developed after long years in the army.

The inn slowly quieted down until it was completely silent except for snores and other nighttime noises of its patrons. The stars continued on their stately march. Belatedly, the crescent moon tiptoed out daintily to join the procession, trailing clouds behind her like a gauzy scarf. Just before dawn, the rain started.

Hroarr's eyes snapped open and he bit off an oath. Even a path as blatant as the one a sheltered princess would leave could be obliterated by enough rain. Cursing softly under his breath, the Northman began rolling up his sleeping furs and wrapping them in oilcloth to keep them dry during the trek. In a matter of minutes he was knocking softly at Mikaila's door, pack in hand.

The night had been pretty rough. As the moon shown more and more in her room, the sleeping girl seemed to be breaking out in a cold sweat, tossing and turning on the bed that she lay on. It wasnt exactly a night in heaven. That was to say the least. She started to have a nightmare that seemed to be reoccurring from the earlier nights. It was absolutely terrifying trying to sleep knowing what her own townspeople had done just to see a killer brought to justice from her family. The laughing faces, the food thrown at her brother as he was kneeling, defeated on the platform. His face always haunted her mind. It had the entire time she was gone from home. Tapping started to come slowly on the window. As soon as it started to increase, the girl flew to a sitting position, her chakram in hand as if someone were about to attack her.

Raffi looked at the spooked girl and just grumbled as if to tell her to get over it. She looked at him and sighed, then started to get her pack together, knowing that it would be day break soon. As soon as her pack was ready, she laid back on the bed and just started to think about the day to come. She was going to have to track down a princess. The best place to start was the last place she had been seen or reported being seen, otherwise, she would have to start from where the princess left from. It was either that or miraculously, Raffi could probably catch her scent, but that was only if the girl was nearby and he had her scent beforehand. The elf started to close her eyes to see if she could get just a bit longer of shut eye when a soft rapping came on her door. Quickly, the small girl jumped up, putting her pack on her back and whistling for Raffi to follow her. Mikaila opened the door to the large brutish man that she had made a deal with last night. "Good morning." She said cheerfully, but there was still a hint of nervousness in her voice. "Ready to go?" As she asked the question, she saw the look on the male's face. He was thinking the same as she was. The rain was going to mess up the tracking a bit, but that was the fun of the tracking game. The best trackers could always be known by their skill of tracking after a good rainfall. It was the easiest way to tell the real ones from the fake's.

The elf girl headed for the door to the tavern, not even bothering to get any breakfast beforehand. Maybe the male wanted something, but they were losing time as it were. "So where was the last place this princess was scene. It could be the best place to start. Or do you already know what direction she is heading?"

"The last place she was seen was the palace. But her horse is missing, also, and there's only one way to get a horse away from the palace without passing guards." Hroarr frowned as he realized the implications of that knowledge. Knowledge his employer had granted so freely. That was suspicious, and barbarians didn't live long by ignoring the suspicious. Still, he had contracted for the job, and he was going to carry it out. And if he didn't get his payment at the end... there were other options.

A glance at the elf girl proved that she was keeping pace with him, and he nodded approvingly and lengthened his stride. This wasn't one of those civilized elves who couldn't keep up any kind of speed without a horse under them. Hroarr had nothing against horses. They were useful creatures, but expensive to feed and maintain. Besides, a man in good condition could run even the finest horse into the ground over time. A man or woman, he supposed. He had never disdained shield-maidens the way some of his fellow warriors had...

At any rate, a horse's only advantage was its initial speed and ability to carry more weight than a man could. The princess's fine horse was likely to have been bred for looks, not for endurance. It would need rest and time to eat enough food to keep an animal that size going, while Hroarr and Mikaila could eat on the run and sleep only a few hours a night. The princess was as good as found, already.

Syl was up as soon as the first rays of light broke through the trees, briefly stretching before slipping reluctantly out of the furs and into the chill morning air. She dressed quickly, the soft woolen robes taking away the bite of the cold. Sylnae added a cloak to the princess' acquired clothing pile, but did not wake her just yet. She went about the rest of her morning routine as usual, rekindling the fire and taking a quick stock of her herbs. She set a small pot with water over the fire to boil, then ducked out of the tent. She cast a glance over the bleary-eyed soldiers who were wakening, but her main focus was the fine horse tied next to her tent. The rain had slowed to a dizzle by this time, and she cast a brief glance upwards at the clouds. As long as if didnt pour again.. Last night in the dark, it was easy to over-look the animal, but now it was a different matter. Syl sincerely hoped the princess would not mind coming outside to an entirely different horse.

She pulled a small jar out of her belt-pouch, unscrewing the top. Eyeing the mixture inside, she gained a slightly woeful look. For a healer who often dealt with odd poultices and the body, she still didnt like to be dirty, and this stuff would stain her hands for hours if not the entire day. With a soft sigh, she set to work rubbing the black walnut paste into the horse's coat. Sylnae worked as quickly as she could, aware the main body of the camp would be awake soon. Once she'd worked it into Marquis' coat, she rubbed dirt into it's mane and tail, giving them a scruffy, unkempt look. The black horse could not be entirely disguised, but the walnut paste gave it more of a brown tint, and without a well-kept appearance and imperial tack.. She sighed softly and ducked back inside. It would have to do.

She tossed herbs into the boiling water for a morning tea, dug out a few supplies for their breakfast, then lightly stepped to the Princess' side. Syl touched her shoulder gently, saying softly, "Mil, time to wake."

She was so use to sleeping in she was surprise by being woken at what was still early for her to find that Syl had been working all morning. Forcing herself up she yawned stretching and rubbing her eyes, half asleep she mumbled. "When did you wake?" she peered out of the tent and saw Marquis, although he looked completely different, she'd been with marquis since he was a foal and she recognized him just about turning to Syl.

"The horse... you disguised him?" sounding impressed at how clever Syl had been, she saw the cloak by the clothing she had been given and changed in to a fresh set with the cloak looking to the pot of herbs. She took a deep breath and exhaled. "It's lovely here, everyone seems to be somewhat calmed down. So... i have no idea where to start looking for my brother..." she admitted folding her hands in her lap. "I would hope if someone knew of his or any of my missing siblings intentions, they would have told us... I'm no master tracker either..."

---

The air rose and his skin burned, breath caught in his lungs as he begged to scream out or find peace anywhere. He had moved rebel camps again, this new one had been warned about these 'dreams' that he would cry out in his sleep. He didn't have any voluntary action to this, he was bunked alone as to not wake anyone; but it also meant when he woke he was alone, cold and covered in sweat. He left the camp to find a river, swimming in it he let his hair down. As he got out he pulled on the thick heavy woolen coat and light cotton pants before heading back to camp. The sun was up by now and he knew he would probably be called to speak with this camp's leader. He tried to recall his name. It began with a J, he was sure.

He skipped breakfast and headed towards the blacksmith hut. He was expecting it to be empty this early, he was partially counting on it as he entered looking around at the weapons. It may have been weird to anyone else but he wanted to see every weapon he could possibly see. If he was lucky one of them would jog his memory and he would be able to slot the pieces together.

Small droplets at first, few and far between, progressively gave way for the downpour. Aldelros looked at the small bed of ash he had hoped to reawaken for a brief cooked breakfast, but the thought was washed away in the puddle forming where his fire should be. No matter, there isn't much distance before I'll be in the town. The rain didn't bother him, he was accustomed to it from years of living near borders and in the wilds. In only a few minutes the fire site was cleared away, his few belongings were together in side bag and the elf was off on the last leg of this travel.

In the early morning rain the old town seemed to bleed grey from all of it's walls. Even the few fresh wooden beams and posts were taking on the drab color early. Telnarsoth was once a larger city, a human city, before the elves brought it into the folds of the Empire. It was here that spirits once flocked, possessing any home they could in order to seek the favors of those men and women requesting trivial deeds. Those days had passed even before Aldelros' time and now the magic the human craftsmen wove into their creations here was no more potent than it was from any other across the world. The spirits had seemingly grown disinterested in exchanging as often as they had then, but fragments of the town's history remained.

Aldelros ducked into a low wooden doorway off of the high street and moved toward a side counter. "I'm looking for a man of the family Caistor." he nodded "A tanner, is he about?" The woman at the counter nodded and left her stall to fetch him from the courtyard beyond. She returned with a middle aged man as her shadow.

"I didn't imagine I'd see you back for another fortnight, Rynegest."

'Rynegest' nodded his head and looks over at the goods lining the next stall "I cut across country where I could. How has business been?"

The man walked Rynegest toward the stacks of leather goods he was offering that day for sale "Yesterday was pretty good, but this rain... we'll see how many will cram themselves inside instead of those street-side market stalls." He chuckled an little "Your boots are ready if you have the pay."

Rynegest handed over a small bag "I'm looking forward to breaking them in. Your family has always been gifted tanners ever since I first arrived in Telnarsoth." It brought a little joy to the man's face, knowing already that this elf had kept his business faithful with his family since before his great grandfather started learning the craft from his own father. "Will that be enough?"

"Yes, I think this should do nicely."

Syl was scrubbing brown-stained hands on a scrap of cloth, getting as much of the color off as she could, but she nodded briefly at the wakening princess. "I am used to rising early, should there be a need, I'd rather be ready for any incoming wounded than not." Delicately, she removed the pot of tea, pouring a bit into two rough-hewn mugs. She held onto it whil Mil finished her dressing, then handed her one of the two, following her glance outside to where Marquis stood. "I thought it best, though any good horseman can still see that he is quality-bred. There will be no disguising that part. Still, if all they look for is a black stallion.."

Syl cast Mil a fleeting smile and crouched back by the fire, warming the few strips of meat she'd taken out. Placing these on a slice of dark bread, she handed the simple concoction to Mil and fixed the remainder for herself. Breakfast wasnt much, but enough to sustain oneself for the day until the next meals. She sat back after this, studying the princess. "I havent heard anything of your siblings myself, but I was never concerned with imperial affairs, either." She shrugged slightly, adding, "There are always rumors of course, but I believe much of it is just talk."

The trip to the edge of the palace grounds might have been faster on horseback, but not much. The uneven ground and tangled undergrowth would have been too much for all but the most desperate horse to get through at any speed. Even Hroarr was forced to exercise some caution after a particularly viscious thornbush opened an ugly cut on his cheek. He could ignore the pain, but he couldn't ignore the fact that if the thorn had been an inch or two higher it would have gotten his eye. It might not have permanently blinded him, but he had no intention of risking even a temporary loss of depth perception from carelessness.

Besides, if he went too fast he might miss the trail markers that had been described to him. White rocks the size of a fist-- an elf's fist, not Hroarr's-- veined with blue-green. Supposedly they were anchored in some way to keep from being moved by anyone, but that didn't make them any easier to spot in the rain. There! Was that one?

Hroarr strode forward for a closer look at the object. It was white, yes, but on closer examination was definitely not one of the marker stones he was looking for. It was better. Caught on another of those savage thornbushes was a scrap of heavy cream-colored silk, shot through with threads of gold. He looked back at Mikaila, grinning triumphantly. "She was here."