"The point is, you sybillant wretch, that they outnumber us twenty to one." Gratter Skedge, the Guard Captain screamed as Kolussus regarded him with an unhuman gaze, the Yuan-Ti's eyes dull despite the glinting ice around him.
"Captain, I have stood these ramparts ever since the God Wars, when the Frost Giants came in hordes of thousands, there, with Zehir's Grace we prevailed, now, when they come in scores and without his guidance we will still prevail."
"They're after him, you know, they're after the pilgrim." Skedge's eyes betrayed his frantic fear, an emotion alien to the reptillian half of the garrison that manned the only pass out of the Hoarfrost Glacier.
"Then pray that your and his false gods give him the strength to prevail." Kolussus hissed back, turning to regard the oncoming horde, "And pray that you fall with the first wave."
The Yuan turns, striding down the frosted steps to the frozen earth of the courtyard, unslinging his greatbow.
"What do you mean fall?" Skedge stumbles down after him, hand flying to the hilt of his longsword.
"Suriving and Prevailing are not always the same thing, Captain, the wards we set yesterday will not shield this bastion from the Frost Giants' magic, merely render this point impassable until forces can be drawn up to combat the incursion."
"You mean we're-" Skedge stops as in the distance the mournful wail of a horn rings accross the mountains.
"May your false gods grant you peace, captain, and, as this is the last chance present for me to do this, may I also note that you are a craven of the lowliest degree whose highest aspiration is not fit for the divine to spit on." Kolussus strides past the man to the shivering Eladrin waiting by the gates.
"This is not your battle, Fey, you are the last soul who will use this pass, remember it for its sacrifice." A pause, a blue tongue lashes out to taste the air, then, "Our prophecy speaks of this moment, when our last great keep falls to the foes of Zehir. It also speaks that, once again, we will have to turn to the false gods for aid. I ask you this, for it is the last hope I can bear with me to my grave. Find the Pilgrim, a man, hooded and cloaked, who passed this way three days before you. He is headed to Moonstair, protect him, see that he reaches his destination, and, until the fortress falls, I strongly suggest you don't look back."

Five minutes later, the ringing crash of the fort's iron gates ringing in his ears, Damir finds himself on the road once again, but with the new, and annoying urge, to look back.
-----------------------------------------------------------
"Now, that wasn't so smart, was it."
Takley freezes as the voice whispers softly above him, from the roof above the balcony of one of Moonstair's Eladrin mansions. The avengers couldn't see him, not if he kept clinging onto the inner curve of the wall, but to keep going up and reach the window would require him to enter their arc of divine sight.
"This is the territory of Sehannine, infidel, I suggest you hold your blade and your sword."
"A pity, I don't have a sword." There is a soft ruffle of cloth flapping in the wind before a female elf hurtles down the building's side, her face ruined from some kind of spell that was definetly fatal.
With a muted curse concerning the Avenger Academies, Takley looks around him for options, he needed to get to that balcony window, to find the only solid lead his coin had revealed concerning his family, however with the Avenger still on the roof he would have to find another way round or...the Drow grimaced as he judged the distance, jump the gap and catch hold of the railings.
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"So, what do you do for a living?" The comment echoed hollowly accross the crowded taproom as Cassandra flipped another grape through her perfectly shaped lips.
Accros the table from her, Thassal groaned inwardly. The woman had taken him from the tower (a plus) showing him the wonders of life beyond its whitewashed confines (a plus), however, her incessant questioning on subjects even his most advanced tomes of arcane lore did not cover were causing him immense emotional discomfort...although he had managed a full nine minutes conversation with her once, definetly breaking his previous record.
So, as the disfigured Half Elf considered his reply, his mind wandered accross what had transpired over the past week.
Cassandra, as the woman's name was, had led him from one city-state to another, crossing borders like a child played hopscotch along with her charge. Apparently they were headed somewhere, Moonstair if he recalled correctly, where he was to join her in some...venture? The whole scenario was confusing to the insularly-minded Thassal, however he had been informed that he would be payed, whatever that meant to a mage who could conjure otherwordly creatures to his beck and call with a flicker of will and was guarunteed life membership in, what had it been called? The Seeker's Legion, apparently an afluent consortium of artefact-hunters based in Sylvor's capital. Whatever the case, his future life was not his current problem, but rather, what the answer to his question was...

The travel had been tiresome and the information he received was minimal. Something of a Seekers Guild, what this was he wasn't totally sure. How they knew his name and his... ability, this he wasn't sure of either. It had been enjoyable, however the strain on his exceptionally weak body had been immense. His room in the tower was small and dingy, and his eyes hurt from the excess natural light. His room had seen Thassal do no physical exercise, apart from frantic scribblings and turning of pages.

The road had been rough and Thassals feet had begun to blister after the first day. Then he remembered his celestial steed spell, he had never before cast this and when he had done his face turned almost purple with embarrassment. He thought his summoning would impress Cassandra, instead she looked at him with pitiful eyes. The summoning itself went smoothly but instead of a fiery horse, he had conjured a small riding dog; suitable only for a young halfling. Cassandra had witnessed it all she turned to him and said “We do need someone with raw talent.” She laughed then, and Thassal let out a nervous chuckle. From then he decided not to try and summon the steed again, wanting to save further embarrassment.

* * *

The smells of the tavern wafted into Thassals nostrils, a mix of warm bread, stale sweat, and ale. Before now he had never set foot in a tavern, now he was here he very much disliked it. He sipped at the mead, noticeably cringing with its taste. The table was sticky and it took a lot of force to peel the palm of his hand from the surface. His small eyes shifted around the room wary of the taverns other... guests. His left hand was at his side, grasping the small pouch of gold that hung there. The other hand moved around awkwardly not sure where to rest.

“So what do you do for a living?” Asked the outstandingly beautiful woman opposite.

The question shocked him, this was because, before now there had only been talk of magical lore and the conjuration of creatures. Thassal shifted nervously in his seat, a gap of a few seconds followed.
“I-I am a student of arcane lore. Could I re-repeat the question to you?”

He wasn't sure what would happen next, for all he knew she could take offence. So once again a fearful look returned to Thassals strange features.

Takley continued to struggle to get onto the ledge, thinking to himself "This may be my last chance to find out, gotta get up there!" He released a groan as he mustered the strength to get up onto the balcony and stood there for about a minute to analyze where to go next. Wait, there was an avenger, (I can still make it) he thought as he spotted another ledge. "Lets do this again" he whispered. he saw that the other ledge was closer than the one he was on, he jumped and he flew across the gap, he hit the other side. It stung a little bit but he did not make a sound. He checked to see if she was still behind him and he didn't see her, "probably inside to catch up to me" he thought. He glanced to his side this time and there stood a doorway, it seemed as if it were calling to him as he walked towards it.

"Its there" A voice called out to him, he looked behind him again, it was her.

"I only want to know what happened to bring my people up to the surface. Is that a crime? or is it allowed? One way or another I am getting in there to find out. Don't deny that"

"I am not denying thee fact that you'll get in one day, but not this day Drow."

He rinds to the door, rushes it open and runs to the other door, then another door. He finally gets to the library and he blocks the door with a statue he manages to move with great exertion. Takley finds the book and hopes they don't get in here for a while, he finds himself lost in it. But when he gets to the end of the book section. Its blank. He stands there with his mouth open for half-a-glass until he leaves to get out.

"Not even they knew why they came up, only the fact that they did. Now get out of here, I will give you a tenth of a glass to get out. Beginning now."

Takley ran as he got out rope to climb down. He tied to rope to the balcony and began climbing down. He got to the bottom and he didn't bother getting the rope "I can get more.I must find out what happened to bring them up.There must be another source to find out." He ran out of the gates and out of the city. He set up camp a good 7 miles out the city and in the trees as not to be seen easily. He rested until the next day.

Damir drew his cloak closer around him, a puff of air escaping his mouth freezing in the air. He rubbed his hands together and held them over the warm, smokeless fire.

"'You shalt not have me demon!' the young ranger cried," Damir muttered under his breath, quietly recalling the one of his favorite stories about the Ranger Kein. "And with a swift movement of his blade he lopped a horn from the head of the Demon. The demon let lose a terrible roar and the very earth shook--"

A loud owl hooted, pulling Damir from his trance. He had burnt his rabbit. With a grumble Damir took his dagger and stabbed the rabbit, pulling the blackened meat from the spit. I was his third night since he left the keep, and his new friend Kolussus who had sent him away.

The last words Kolussus had said echoed through his head:

"I ask you this, for it is the last hope I can bear with me to my grave. Find the Pilgrim, a man, hooded and cloaked, who passed this way three days before you. He is headed to Moonstair, protect him, see that he reaches his destination, and, until the fortress falls, I strongly suggest you don't look back."

Damir fully intended to find this pilgrim and escort him to Moonstair, already out of the pass Damir had quickly picked up the trail of the pilgrim and was quickly moving to overtake him. Once he had escorted the Pilgrim he planned on full to go back to the Keep and see if anyone made it, but he seriously doubted it.

Damir looked down at his meal, not really hungry anymore with a sigh he dumped it back in the fire. The smell of food would attract an animal of some sort and he didn't want that.

With another sigh Damir stretched and laid down on his bedroll, shivering.

"And the Demon let loose a roar, and the world trembled. 'You shall not best me demon!' Kein yelled again, slicing the other horn, 'You shall not best me demon!'" Damir murmured, drawing his cloak closer, and closing his eyes. "You shall not best me..."

"I see." Cassandra twirled a strand of hair thoughtfully around a beringed finger, her perfectly fromed mouth smiling. "I imagine all of those years of study must have yielded some great results, summoners are rare enough as it is, and mages who have bothered to read into their craft rarer still." The woman pauses as the innkeeper hurries over to your table, sweating slightly.
"Your, euh, the steeds you ordered are ready, Mydae. I should warn you though, the bandits on the road to Moonstair have become bolder, they even threatened a group of travelling priests once." Thassal is surprised that the man uses the elfin honourific for females when adressing his companion, then again, some cross-lingual infiltration is bound to occur on a continent as diverse as Sylvor.
"Oh," Cassandra frowns, folding her arms, "Which God?"
"Euh...S'hiras Ahran, Mydae." The Inkeeper's sweat begins to bead on his swarthy forhead. "As far as we know there were no survivors, although reports of Ghouls have grown amongst the outlying farms."
"Very well, we must leave at once, I doubt that they will be fools enough to attack us during the night, not with Ghouls out on the prowl."
"As you wish, Mydae." The Inkeeper bows, leading the two of you out and gesturing to two well-maintained horses standing impatiently in the street. With a second bow, the man leaves, closing the door to his establishment softly behind him.
"Alright Thassal, two questions." Cassandra turns to you, a hard note in her voice. "One, can you ride? And two, can you cast in the darkness?"
---------------------------------------------------------
Takley groans as he wakes, coughing at the smoke from the fire...which he was sure he had doused before he drifted off to sleep. Starting, he rolls out of his bedclothes, reaching for his short sword even as a plate is thrust out to him, the hand holding it an almost black brown.
"Good morning."
Looking up, Takley takes in a figure, well exceding six feet in height and clad in a greatcoat holding out his breakfast, a similar plate resting by the fire. The newcomer is clearly elfin in appearance, apart from his skin and white hair, as well as his single burning yellow eye, its twin covered by a band of dirty cloth.
"I suggest you eat this, last night must have been exhausting." The plate is laid on the grass as the stranger turns, looking up into the canopy. "I would strongly suggest that next time you take to the rooftops, if the Avengers catch you, it will be a quick, clean end, rather than what the things lurking in Moonstair's streets after dark will do to you."
---------------------------------------------------------
The first inkling Damir had that something was wrong, was with the first dream. As a rule, Eladrin slipped into a meditative trance instead of sleep, however, this time, it was almost as if a sonorous veil had been pulled roughly over his tired eyes, its inverse side a patina of hideous images.
Towns burnt, rivers burst their banks in bloody tides and children screamed as fire rained from the sky. Then, as the Eladrin knew it would, the Demon strode from the carnage, its massive frame blotting out all hope.
"...and when the night falls and all hope is lost, it falls to the meek to stand against the horrors of the dark." The lines from the Lay of Kein echoed through Damir's thoughts as he stared down at the bow in his hands, not his own, but a weapon crafted from, it seemed, light and gold, a symbol of hope.
"...for only the meek know of hope, for it is that which sustains them." Smiling, Damir pulled back the string of his bow, aimed up, and fired.

Blinking, the Eladrin opened his eyes, cursing at the sudden light, he felt...refreshed, after what must only have been two or less hours sleep, and yet. Blinking in shock he registered the bow from his dreams resting by his hearth with a single Rellanic rune scribed upon its grip.
"Hope."
Sudden energy filled the Eladrin's limbs, he would find the Pilgrim, come rain of blood or storm of fire, he would find him.

Damir traveled, day in day out. Resting for maybe 4 hours a night before setting off again. He didn't understand where his drive came from, all he knew is that he had to find this Pilgrim, he had to find him fast, and he wasn't going to rest until he did.

Thassal looked at the innkeeper approach and his expression turned to a worry. The innkeeper seemed like a nice man but thassals trust had yet to be earned, the innkeeper spoke to Cassandra telling her the horses were ready to leave. There were talks of troubled roads, bandits and ghouls, Thassal felt the cold touch of fear grasp the foot of his spine, a familiar feeling. The next thing to shock the nervous wizard was the talk of horses. He had never ridden before, despite being able to summon a mount, but how hard could it be. Finishing his drink he stood up from the chair he had been sat on and cast his eyes around the room, with nothing to fear he strode out of the tavern. Following Cassandra and admiring her wonderful figure and long blonde locks.

The horse was bigger than he imagined, he had rarely seen a horse other than the small window in the schools library. His jaw dropped and his mind was gripped with thoughts of a trampled death. The four legged creature was a brown colour and shoulder-height with Thassal, perhaps it would be more tricky than he thought. Gazing at the horse, Cassandras question was almost ignored, the fearful thoughts cruising around Thassals mind blocking it out.
"Alright Thassal two questions. One, can you ride? And two can you cast in darkness?" Cassandra said in a hardened voice.
"I-I've never ridden before is it hard? horses are so big!" Said Thassal nervously, his eyes shifting from Cassandra to the horse.
*Waits for answer
"Erm... I've never really tried, isn't this all a bit dangerous? Can't I just ride behind you on your horse?" Thassal asked nervously, his palms beginning to sweat.
*Waits for reply

Putting one foot in the stirrup, the saddle slid and Thassal ended up on the dirt floor looking into the night sky.
“Well, at least I am sure I can summon in the dark. I've been doing it long enough.” Said Thassal, a hint of embarrassment in his voice.

"Haha, good idea.Next time." *accepts the plate and begins eating* "So what brings you out here? Whats your name as well?" *Takley finishes his food in a gulp and begins wandering around awaiting an answer*

"I'm not too afraid of the creatures, at least I hope not."

Cassandra smiles wanly at Thassal,
"Don't worry, horses don't come naturraly to me either-" She winces as the half-elf slides from his mount before helping him to his feet.
"I'm sure if we work together we can both end up mounted..." She smiles at you before reaching into a saddlebag and taking out a coil of rope. "When my father taught me to ride he tied me to my horse so that I couldn't fall, with no better options I think it would be safer for both of us if, until you get to grips with the process, I fasten you to your sadle."
----------------------------------------------------------
The stranger gives Takley as apprasing glance as he can with his single eye before settling down beside the fire.
"Have you ever wondered why the Avengers take to the rooftops at night?" Finishing his own meal the ebony man once again stands.
"As for my name, I am called Grendar when people aren't firing arrows at me...which isn't as infrequent as I'd like any more." Dousing the fire, the newcomer turns, staring once again at the sky. "I suggest that we answer your second question tonight...suffice to say that I am looking for the same thing that you are, only you don't actually know what you're really looking for yet." He flashes you a smile that is too wide to trust before striding off. "Meet me before the mansion as dusk falls, no later unless you want to put your life in luck's hands."

---------------------------------------------------------
OOC: TsAh is currently away, his arc will resume when he returns.

"Have you ever wondered why the Avengers take to the rooftops at night?"

*shrugs*

"No, why is that?I only showed up to see if a hunch was correct. Kinda new to the area, hope to be gone soon."

(reply)

"As for my name, I am called Grendar when people aren't firing arrows at me...which isn't as infrequent as I'd like any more."

*puts his fingers up to count*

"Well, Grendar, I don't think i've been shot at yet.Almost stabbed, potentially poisoned, blinded by the light of the surface among other things. But not shot at. That would be a new one."

(reply)

"I suggest that we answer your second question tonight...suffice to say that I am looking for the same thing that you are, only you don't actually know what you're really looking for yet." He flashes you a smile that is too wide to trust before striding off. "Meet me before the mansion as dusk falls, no later unless you want to put your life in luck's hands."

*looks at him and sharpens his dagger*

"I read a book in the library at the academy there, but it only had what the legends that people say in the streets. How do I know I can trust what you say. The last person who said that tried to poison me. So you need to give me more than that."

(reply)

Thassal blushed vividly as he was tied into the saddle by Cassandra, his time spent studying was not looking so valuable now he was travelling. The weather was dry, but not warm and Thassal shivered often, the chill breeze of the night making sure of that. He was beginning to get used to life in the saddle and the horse felt a little safer, though occasionally he looked at the rushing ground below his mind dizzying. He had to concentrate though, he needed to summon in the dark, the tales of bandits on the road and other undead creatures roaming the countryside kept him alert.

Thassal wanted to test whether he could cast in darkness, he had managed in the dim candlelit room but that was avoid of distractions. Holding his arms out and waving in a peculiar action he cast Detect magic (depending on result) He felt the spell seep out of him his mind searching, he felt the spell being cast but no magic was present (presumably). Starting to feel more comfortable he trotted on catching up with Cassandra, and consequently started to complain of being uncomfortable, cold and tired.

Damir sighed and stared down from the small ledge he was standing on, overlooking a small valley in which a man was camped; the grey tendrils of smoke lazily floating into the air, giving off the smell of cooking venison.

Damir palmed his stomach, listening to the slight grumble it made as the smell of food awakened the ache of hunger. For the past two days Damir had gone without food, choosing to spend the time he would normally hunt trying to overtake this pilgrim.

This pilgrim in which he had finally found. But now that he had found him, or what he assumed to be him, he honestly didn't know what to do. He wasn't much of a people person, much preferring the quiet calm of nature to the awkward, complicated conversations of man. He grew up tutored by a hermit, after all. Damir figured he was probably over thinking this and should probably just walk up to the camp and explain himself. Maybe even ask if he had venison to spare and share with a weary traveler.

Damir smiled at the thought of food, and with that decided to go down and interrupt the Pilgrims quiet dinner. Damir started down the little path he had found up to the ledge, taking his time going down as not to disturb the wild life.

After he reached the bottom of the valley it took him five minutes to weave his way through the forest, making his way towards the pilgrim.

"Ho, friendly traveler!" Damir called, walking into the man's view opposite the fire from him, throwing his hands up as if to say, I'm not here to hurt you. "Care to let a weary traveler such as myself join you this fine night. You know, it's never to safe to linger in the wilderness alone!"

"No, why is that?I only showed up to see if a hunch was correct. Kinda new to the area, hope to be gone soon."

Grendar eyes you wryly, straigtening.
"Hunches in Moonstair will see that you get to know the area very well...starting with its cemetaries. Certain knowledge is all that counts..."

"Well, Grendar, I don't think i've been shot at yet.Almost stabbed, potentially poisoned, blinded by the light of the surface among other things. But not shot at. That would be a new one."

"...Blinded." His frown deepends before clearing all too quickly. "Hopefully you've learnt to keep your eyes open then, if your escape last night was anything to go by."

*looks at him and sharpens his dagger*

"I read a book in the library at the academy there, but it only had what the legends that people say in the streets. How do I know I can trust what you say. The last person who said that tried to poison me. So you need to give me more than that."

"I wonder why," Grendar mutters, looking closley at the dagger.
[Passive Perception Success: You notice that below the cloth of his impromptu eyepatch, Grendar's muscles are moving as if a second eye is regarding your weapon.]
"Consider this...Takley, you can take up my lead, follow me on this and potentially find the last copy of Lolth's Codex...yes, the holy book of a fallen god and history of your people all in one bundle, gorgeous isn't it. Or you could try to get to it again tonight and perhaps even survive."
He continues walking from the camp, dissapearing into the shadows.
"Oh, and incidentally, if you point that butter knife at me again my advice will become distinctly more...unfriendly."
--------------------------------------------------------
Cassandra whethers Thassal's outburst well over the first few minutes of their travel...however as those minutes begin to stretch to an hour she finally reins your horses in, turning to the mage with narrowed eyes.
"Alright, two things, Thassal. First, and most importantly, we are on a road frequented by bandits, unless you want to be ambushed I strongly suggest you be quiet. Second, as patient as I am the people I work for are not, whine every second of the way and you'll end up more miserable than you were in that tower. Now," Cassandra's voice softens, "I know you're a nice man and haven't led the easiest of lives but please try to adapt to this new one. I'm giving you a chance to change, please take it with minimum fuss..." She stops suddenly, whirling to look at the semi-circle of men that have gathered before you from the shadows.
"Oh, go on m'am, we want to see the bit where you kiss his ego better." The brawniest of them chuckles, fingering a massive club. "Although there are certainly others more deserving of the silken toutch of-" His leer and words are cut off as a throwing dagger plunges into the man's throat, sending him crashing to the ground as Cassandra rises up to stand on her stirrups, an elegant, thin blade in one hand.
"Yokel wretches! Do you not know the import of your actions? The very Gods themselves will curse your names for daring to insult I, Princess Avessia of Oe-Lec! Behold, as my Archmage and guide summons his fell powers to summon a servant that shall strike the down."
Even as Thassal registers his companion's verbal cue, he suddenly feels a pulse, the remanents of his Detect Magic spell picking something up...normally its duration should have worn out, unless something really dangerous or powerful was coming their way.
---------------------------------------------------------
Looking up, the Pilgrim smiles at Damir, gesturing for him to take a seat.
"Wise words, my friend, and not wasted upon my ears. Here, you must be hungered by your travels." Looking to the side, Damir notices a plate of food that he was certain wasn't there before steaming on a rock. Looking back at his newfound companion he gets his first good look at the Pilgrim's features.
"Please take a seat...the wilderness minds not whether you sit upon a fallen trunk or overturned bolder."
A Half-Elf, tall, black haired and with a noble complexion, around his neck rests a green scale as would an amulet. Damir also notes a blade slung on his left (making the Pilgrim presumably right-handed) and a series of rings marked with strange symbols save for two, one bearing the symbol of Avandra, the other of S'hiras Ahran.
"So, tell me, what brings you here from...the north if my estimates are correct? Not to many travellers come that way."

Looking up, the Pilgrim smiles at Damir, gesturing for him to take a seat.
"Wise words, my friend, and not wasted upon my ears. Here, you must be hungered by your travels." Looking to the side, Damir notices a plate of food that he was certain wasn't there before steaming on a rock. Looking back at his newfound companion he gets his first good look at the Pilgrim's features.
"Please take a seat...the wilderness minds not whether you sit upon a fallen trunk or overturned bolder."
A Half-Elf, tall, black haired and with a noble complexion, around his neck rests a green scale as would an amulet. Damir also notes a blade slung on his left (making the Pilgrim presumably right-handed) and a series of rings marked with strange symbols save for two, one bearing the symbol of Avandra, the other of S'hiras Ahran.
"So, tell me, what brings you here from...the north if my estimates are correct? Not to many travellers come that way."

"Well, umm," Damir started, suddenly realizing he had nothing to say. Always a recluse Damir never had to deal with people much. After conversations he would think of thousands of witty comments and such that he should of used but hen it came down to actually conversing with people Damir might as well have been Deaf and Dumb. He actually spent a lot of his climb down to the little campsite practicing his first opening line in which he'd introduce himself, but now that that was over, he didn't have the slightest what to do. "I was up- up north, yeah. And- And well, uhmmm, I- Well- I."

Embarrassed Damir grabbed for his bow, for some reason, the feel of the wood in his hands always calmed him.

"I'm sorry, let me try again." Damir muttered, diverting his gaze slightly and gripping 'Hope' tightly. "I- Well, I was sent by Kolussus. He- Uhmm, well, he- he gave me his last request, which was, uhmmm, to find and escort you to, uhh, Moonstair. But, uhmm, sir. You don't really seem like you need it much... What with what I'd guess to be a- a dragon scale hanging from you neck..."

Looking again at the Pilgrims face, Damir smiled slightly. Give him a beast to fight any day of the week, he'd gladly do it. Face him up with another intelligent being and make him have a conversation, and he'd perish.

"I wonder why," Grendar mutters, looking closley at the dagger.

*He sees the eye moving underneath the eyepatch but shooses to disregard it for now.*

"Consider this...Takley, you can take up my lead, follow me on this and potentially find the last copy of Lolth's Codex...yes, the holy book of a fallen god and history of your people all in one bundle, gorgeous isn't it. Or you could try to get to it again tonight and perhaps even survive."

"Are you sure you know where the book is? I mean, they are lost in the ages, last one disappeared 'bout 15 years ago"

Grendar continues walking from the camp, dissapearing into the shadows.
"Oh, and incidentally, if you point that butter knife at me again my advice will become distinctly more...unfriendly."

As time passes by, Takley begins to wonder if Grendar is telling the truth.(will save, if fail he goes, if pass he stays in the camp and in the shadows of the forest)

(fail)

He arrived at the mansion just as dusk was falling and searches the shadows for Grendar knowing full well that he could see him completely.When he found him he spoke.

"Lets see if your telling the truth."

(pass)

Takley put out the fire that was already dwindling and went off into the forest and climbed a tree hoping nothing would find him. He wasn't scared if they did come but just for precautions he hid himself in the thick branches to avoid getting seen.