RP:The Knight's Intervention

From HollowWiki

Part of the Liberation of Rynvale Arc



LOCATION: Rynvale, Rynvale Jail

A line of cells borders each side of the lengthy walkway that takes up the majority of the newly-built jail. Those found responsible for crimes in Rynvale usually find themselves sent here for a while, the length of their stay varying upon the severity of their crime. In one cell sits a thief, and in the one next to him a murderess. Two specially-configured cells loom at the far end of the hall, though neither appears occupied; perhaps they are geared for specific criminals on the loose? An old yet stout warder leans near the entry to the jail, making sure those visiting mind the restricted hours, and ensuring that the criminals are kept largely on their best behavior.


Rhoswen looked pale and shaken as she stepped into the prison. She could not say no when her clan asked her to tend to the prisoner, but the boat ride always shook her up. She didn't like to be on boats. "Empress?" She called out softly, glancing about to see Leigh.

Leigh barely moves when she hears someone enter and address her slouching form. She sits not upon the provided bench, nor the rather uncomfortable mattress the guards expect her to sleep on, but in the corner. At first, she refuses to acknowledge the stranger, but slowly her eyes lift from the floor and she looks to Rhoswen. She offers no response other than the look in her eyes that seems to ask what this visit was about.

Rhoswen bit her lip nervously. "I have been asked to see to your needs..." She spoke in soft tones, approaching the cell where the prisoner sat. The half breed looked at the lycaness' slouched form, "So...is there anything I can get for you?" She wasn't sure how she felt about this whole keeping prisoners thing. She understood that this woman might be dangerous, being the spouse of the defeated Vuryal. Still, was keeping captives once the war was over any different than taking slaves? She offered a small smile, "My name is Rhoswen, by the way...Rhoswen Amoth."

Leigh 's stare hardens and the muscles of her jaw tighten as she grits her teeth. With a snort, she snaps her head around to face the wall opposite Rhoswen. "I highly doubt that you could get me anything I -need-," she sneers. The female then brings her knees up and crosses her arms over them, her focus shifting from the wall to the floor again. "Did any of my people survive?" It was a simple question she hadn't planned on asking. She assumed none of them survived what had happened, but she suddenly had the urge to ask the dreaded question anyway.

Rhoswen looked at the floor at the snappish response. The woman was probably right...there was nothing that this person needed more than her freedom...and Rhoswen could not grant that. "I am sorry..." At the question, she blinked, biting her lip, "I do not know..." It was the honest response. She had not been an active part of the battle, she didn't know if any of the others in Vuryal's order had survived, again she murmured an apology, "I am sorry..."

Leigh winces at the apology and drops her legs back to the floor in order to tell this Rhoswen what she thought of her apologies, but the action causes her to cringe for other reasons. The guards had patched up most of her wounds before confining her, but even with the Empress' higher pain threshold and ability to heal faster than the average human, her injuries were still quite sore. She grips her shoulder only to find the pain in her forearm is much worse. "Well, good riddance if they are!" The words were spat with such fury that Leigh quickly regretted opening her mouth. It sent yet another wave of pain through her that she could not hide. "Damn it all," she mutters.

Parsithius appears from the east.

Rhoswen sighed softly at the obvious pain the woman was in. She began searching for the keys, and upon finding them, she let herself into the cell. Her small frame crouched before the captive, her hands glowing blue as they sought out the shoulder that had plainly pained the empress, "Let me help..." Her pale blue hues lighted upon the sore shoulder.

Leigh scowls when the apparent healer enters the cell, but does little to stop the woman from doing what she came in to do. Of course, she has enough of it before the healing does her any real good and lifts her arm to block Rhoswen from further contact. "Get away from me," she growls, staring at the opposite wall again.

Parsithius is no stranger to bold entries, but this might be his boldest by far. An apparent 'slam' marks the knight's passing through the threshold, the door being virtually kicked off it's hinges and sent wayward and skidding to the wall, bringing upon their ears that ambience of clattering steel and wood. "Empress." The healer is paid no attention to; she is an obstacle in his way, nothing more. 'Click' are platemail greaves, bearing the golden-haired one toward the cell.

Rhoswen let her healing powers go to work until she is pushed away. She stumbled back, and stood, "If that is what you wish." That being said, she turned to leave, only to see the knight enter, "What business do you have here?" She demanded, trying to sound braver than she felt.

Rhoswen told your clan, "There is a man I do not recognize in the prison...I may need backup..."

Lirithen told your clan, "On my way."

Kenneth told your clan, "Ditto"

Parsithius slowly, almost intimidatingly turns his cold, ruthless gaze upon Rhoswen when she demands his business, holding his own in the veritable form of either misguided justice, or just brazen might. "Step aside," he orders, "lest you lose your head from your shoulders." Such vehemence, boiling within his body and steeled by temperance of meticulous planning, efficient calculations, and barbaric strategy. The advance of clicking greaves, however, does not wane and continues toward the cell, eyes flicking back upon Leigh in complete scrutiny. "I had told you. It is time to leave now."

Lirithen 's arrival was quick, indeed but moments post Rhoswen's call for aid, and was of a somewhat gentler approach. His steps were tempered, almost nonchalant, though an irritation wrinkled the tree-born's forehand and tightened fair lips into a displeased frown. "Is there a problem, sir?" came a all-too-resigned tone, slumped shoulders and somewhat sagging points of elven ears proof enough that there were places the ranger would much rather be.

Shishi is only the sound of a crash to the east in the sheriff's office for now. That and a few growled shouts, "A clothing shop, I said!"

Kenneth followed Lirithen, only to hear a voice threaten his dearest friend. "Back off from he-" Oh crap! It could be anyone...besides this bastard. "Perfect...It's The Knight...Lirithen...I hope you can defend your position..I have to get Rose out of here." He walked to Rose, grabbing her hand to take her home. Before The Knight could react, he lifted her up in a hold like a groom would hold his bride and rushed out with lycan speed.

Lirithen said, "Eccentric fellow..."

Kenneth told your clan, "Lirithen...i'll be back soon...I'm taking her home....She's shouldn't be here, in case of a battle...I shall return..Please....hold strong..."

Lirithen told your clan, "I'd prefer not to have to fight anyone, Kenneth. We will reach a peaceful solution before any blades are drawn."

Leigh does her best to get to her feet, though it is a struggle to do so. She watches the knight carefully from her slouching position as if she believes he is here to kill her and she would soon have to defend herself as best she could. Soon others have joined them in the jail and she continues to wonder what will become of her. The Empress recognizes no one as an ally and can only assume the worst as these men enter the jail. She slumps against the wall, her knee threatening to give out any moment, but she keeps her position through sheer determination not to be attacked while sitting on the floor like a dog. "Do what ever you have to do," she sneers to them all, "If killing me will bring you peace, I salute you malicious bastards for your eagerness to kill a wounded woman."

Parsithius 's eyes are trained upon Leigh, even as Lirithen comes forth to speak; the resignation high in his tone and thereof, not underestimated by the knight. The butt spike of his massive halberd is shoved into the floorboards, quaking the very foundation of the building, "I demand that this prisoner be transferred to my custody. There is no negotiation. Either she goes with me, or she goes with me over all of your dead bodies." That azure gaze slides toward Lirithen then, the threat dire, and deathly serious. Leigh's words are heard, but only responded to with a slight snort. Killing her would do nothing.

Lirithen , at first, simply stared, silent and resigned. A tad unfair, really, making demands from those weary from combat. Lips parted, forced slowly away by an annoyed sigh that spoke unwillingness in volumes before the elf's silver-haired head snapped upwards, narrowed eyes locked firmly upon the visage of the knight. "That," spoke the tree-born, both half-gloved hands disappearing behind the trench coated back of the ranger, "I'm afraid, is something we cannot allow. Cease your aggression, or yours will be the cell next to hers."

Shishi throws a body through the door to the room holding the cells. The poor man the assassin tossed in is motionless, likely unconscious, but alive at least. The assassin follows the unmoving body in, his eyes a glowing shade of crimson. The vampire's clothes are torn to bits and any visible skin is covered in small scrapes and scratches. A cold stare is sent down at the body he tossed in before the assassin realizes the presence of the others present. He stops in his tracks and drops his hands to his sides, letting them slide behind his back, perhaps towards a weapon.

Lirithen told your clan, "Lady Keturah, I need your help."

Keturah told your clan, "Ah? Chal, where would you have me help, Lirithen?"

Leigh stands there in her cell awaiting the inevitable until the Knight's true intentions are made clear by his statement. Her life would still be in his hands if he happened to be granted custody, whether here or elsewhere, but she was indeed relieved that there were no current plans for execution. Not that she had a lot left to live for. Still, surviving the invasion at all seemed to be some miracle that she was not ready to throw away by letting her life end in a jail cell. Thankfully, that did not appear to be the case at the moment. Of course, it did not seem that Parsithius would be taking her anywhere. As he and the Elf traded threats, Leigh moved over to the lumpy mattress and sat down to watch the events unfold. It came as a bit of a shock when a body flew into the room, leaving the Empress wondering what else could go wrong as her attention shifted from Parsithius and Lirithen to the entrance. The vampire that appeared in the doorway gained her full focus soon after and she wondered what part he would play in all of this.

Lirithen told your clan, "Parsithius, the Knight. He is demanding that Leigh be transferred to his custody immediately. He says he will not negotiate, and has already threatened me, Rhoswen and Kenneth with death if we do not comply. Obviously, I will do all within my power to prevent him and this vampire fellow he has with him from getting her unless one of the Round approves the transfer."

Parsithius blinks as Shishi makes his entrance apparent, the body crumbling at his feet and the man following the trail from unconscious to conscious; the vampire in sight. "Lord Shishi." Then, Lirithen, sliding his gaze toward the elf simply, before making his demand. "Three days to give me custody of the Empress. Or your clan will feel the wrath of war upon it's head."

Keturah told your clan, "Parsithius.. We cannot surrender the Lady Leigh to him. Where are you now, Lirithen?"

Lirithen told your clan, "Apparently, we have three days to hand her over, or he will wage war upon the clan. I am at the Rynvale Jail, please come quickly."

Keturah appears from the east.

Lirithen said to Parsithius, "I highly doubt you will get her without negotiation. If you'll wait a few minutes, I can bring one of the Round here now to do so."

Shishi narrows his gaze slightly at all but Parsithius, eying them all closely as if he was looking for a specific person. When he's assured that none of those present are ones that he seeks the vampire looks towards Par through Crimson eyes, "Knight." There's no nod or wave to go along with his greeting and his hands remain behind his back as he asks aloud, "War?" almost excitedly.

Keturah made her way into the jail, hands clasped tightly before her stomach. She had been tending patients until now, made evident by the coating of blood that stained her garments. Eyes lifted to observe the group, and she dipped her head. "We are talking of war?"

Leigh sighs and leans forward, her elbows coming to rest upon her knees. She shakes her head slowly at the conversation taking place. Was she really the focus of all this? "Why do you all not just leave? Fighting over who gets to keep me locked up is ridiculous and I am certain there are other things you would all rather be doing." She doesn't care if any of them are listening to her, but she felt the need to say something at least.

Parsithius slides his gaze first to Shishi, then toward Lirithen, then settling upon Keturh; he get's down to business, lest the Empress become moreso unhappy. "I want this prisoner in my custody, green-eyes," he says, his voice taking a lighter, less harsh tone. Shishi is given a nod to; war. Soon, perhaps.

Lirithen was evidently keen to alleviate himself from the line of Parsithius' fire, and now that focus had turned upon Keturah the tree-born strolled toward the prisoner's cell, taking up a position just out arm's reach if she felt so inclined to lash at him through the bars. Sharpened gaze remained trained upon the knight, flicking occasionally to the vampire he recognized, hands remaining clapped behind his back. "Seems you're worth a lot of trouble, m'lady," Leigh was addressed, perhaps out of sympathy. She had been ignored thus far, just as Lirithen was hoping he would also be.

Shishi looks towards the woman in the cell as she speaks, "Quiet, y-..." the vampire cuts himself off as he spots a shadow inside the cell moving slightly while logic dictates that it remain still. The Knight is then regarded with a slight nod, "Good. Tell me when."

Keturah chewed only briefly upon her bottom lip, before straightening her posture. Moss-green eyes narrowed, some stony determination resting within their depths. The Empress's words warranted an almost apologetic smile from the druidess, who thusly bowed her head toward the woman. Attention was turned toward the vampire a moment, before shifting toward the Knight. "Why blue-eyes?"

Leigh barely acknowledges the Elf when he speaks, her eyes remaining focused on the floor of her small, barred room. Her shoulders lift slightly in a shrug and her eyelids fall shut. There were a lot of things the Empress could do, even more that she could say, but it was all pointless. Striking out at those near enough would do nothing to free her from her cage and in fact would only be worse for her in the end if it was decided she needed to be restrained even in a cell. Cursing and shouting would be just as useless. Words would not unlock the door. Not for her. She lacked a persuasive tongue and relied more upon her brute force which, as already decided by the lycan, would not get her out either. She eventually does manage a response to Lirithen, though. But it is a more depressing one than he may have expected. "I am not worth anything."

Parsithius frowns slightly; it is hard to remain so diligent, angry, and ruthless when faced with the bottom lip-chewing, green-eyed, curious Keturah. Very hard; so hard, in fact, that the man fails to keep his resolve, eventually tilting his head slightly and looking upon her in distinct apology -or rather, for his next words. "She is the Empress. A beacon of Order. I cannot have her locked up; this I cannot explain to you, green-eyes. In due time, you will understand, and for that I apologize. And, for what I must do..." Poise is regained, straightening; determined. "If I do not gain custody of the prisoner within three days, at the end of the third is when the Fold will be under seige." And, desiring not to be so harsh anymore to the woman, he turns upon heel, heading toward the exit; sidelong, casting, "Come, Lord Shishi. Patience, and our war will be upon us." The healer? A -very- apologetic look.

Shishi tails the Knight out, hiding his hands from Parsithius's sight still. There’re no words from the assassin as the pair exit.

Lirithen turned slowly, regarding the woman with some surprise evidenced by slightly raised brows. This look, however, was fleeting, as the elf did need to keep a watch of the situation, namely the knight, so Leigh was again gifted with a rear view of shoulder-length silver curls. "I wouldn't say that, m'lady," replied the ranger, knocking his heels together formally, "Do cheer up. Couple of days and questions and you should be free as a daisy."

Leigh 's brow furrowed and she, for a split second, was tempted to let Lirithen know how she felt about his suggestion to 'cheer up', but the urge left her before she could think up a few insults specific to his heritage. She was keeping her anger in check. The last thing she wanted was to change into her alternate form in this cell. If that happened, she would likely wake up tomorrow with a few broken teeth and fingers from biting at the bars and digging at the concrete floor. No, better to just stay calm and see how things turned out.

Keturah 's lips thinned to a line, brows knitting together with concern. It was true that she had not understood the Knight's words, and she had not quite managed to smile toward him as he and Shishi took their leave. Another war, she could hardly bear the thought of such a thing; especially, if the Fold were at ends with the Knight. Exhaling, the petite woman lifted a blood stained hand to the back of her neck. "Mm. Thank you, Lirithen. Lady Arien," she broke off, eyes landing upon those remaining. Biting against her lip again, the druidess shook her head. "Lady Arien will need to be informed as soon as possible." Obviously. Words spilled unchecked as the lycan made her thoughts known aloud. Lowering her hands back to her side the healer made her way to the cell doors. "Lady Leigh." Pausing, the druidess set a soft smile to her lips. "My name is Keturah Ka'Anch, of the Fold's Round.. and Clan Healer. Ah.. I do wonder if your wounds have been tended to?"

Lirithen took his quiet leave. Lirithen exits east.

Leigh shakes her head when Keturah addresses her. It was not an answer; more like a display of her desire to be left alone. After a moment to think it over, however, the Empress decides against shooing the woman away. After all, too much pain would cause her to transform as well. Not good. "The guards wrapped them up. A girl named Rhoswen tended my shoulder before I stopped her and the Knight came in. I am in a lot of pain, honestly."

Keturah hardly skipped a beat before having the cell opened for her and slipping in. The smile was still there, and looking over the female with quiet study, the druidess at last tilted her head."I would be a fair healer, if you have no qualms against a magical healing, m'lady. I can mend you well enough without, if you'd prefer though." A hand shifted to her pocket, procuring the pair of leather gloves she had slipped there earlier. "May I see your injuries?"

Leigh stays in her slouched position on the bed, her elbows propped on her knees and her eyes still closed. "Which ever method lets you touch me the least," she says, sitting up straight to make eye contact with Keturah. It wasn't personal, not even in the jailer prisoner relationship. Leigh didn't like being touched, plain and simple. Upon being brought here, she had been given a commoner's attire. A plain shirt and pants with uncomfortable sandals for her feet. This made it easier to point out her wounds, however, and she lifts her left arm and points to her right shoulder and her right forearm. The shoulder wound was obviously that left by an arrow while the puncture wound of her forearm was that of a blade. She then points to a place just above her left knee. Another arrow had struck there. She didn't bother mentioning the headache she still suffered from Rhocielle's fist.

Keturah worked on tugging on her gloves as she moved toward the bed. "Magic it is then, Lady Leigh." Gloves secured, the druidess stood alongside the bed, lowering herself enough that she was closer to the wounds upon the other lycan's arm. "That looks painful," the brunette commented, holding her palms out to cup over the injured shoulder. She needed not make physical contact in the course of healing, perhaps a fortunate thing for the Empress. "You must be very strong." The healer quieted, whispering softly until the soft healing glow flickered to life through the leather that so covered her hands. Closing her eyes, Keturah bowed her head, 'seeking' out the wounds, and pouring her awareness into them. Slowly, cell by cell, the druidess began suturing the injuries, magically drawing muscle, blood vessels and skin back together, dulling the pain the healing might cause as much as she could whilst she worked.

Leigh looks away as Keturah goes to work. She stares at the wall, grinding her teeth slowly not only due to the discomfort of her wounds, but also for the nearness of the healer. It was necessary, however much she hated it. In reply to Keturah's words, namely the mention of Leigh's strength, the Empress gives a small scoff and shakes her head. "I was..." But no longer without -him-, she would have added if she didn't fear the mention of his name would bring her to tears before the other lycan. She wouldn't have that. So, she kept her mouth shut and waited for the healing to be over.

Keturah kept to her task, meticulously working from one injury to the next. Once the shoulder had been seen to, the healer moved on to the stab wound. The work could not be rushed, though the druidess worked as quickly and dutifully as she was able to heal the injuries. "I think you are.." the words were hushed, and drawn out thickly, lacking the usual sing-song lilt the desert-born's accent added to her speech. When she had finished the arm, she would move to the injury on the knee. "Are you paining anywhere else, m'lady?"

Leigh shakes her head, "No." She ignores Keturah's previous statement all together. Her eyelids droop wearily as if the pain had been the only thing keeping the woman awake thus far. As those aches left her, so did her alertness. The woman's head bobbed down a few times as if she would nod off only to jerk upright again. Soon, however, she could bear it no longer and slumped to her right, falling against the mattress in a deep sleep. Whether Keturah was finished or not, Leigh was unaware. Though she would be angry at herself for sleeping later, the Empress would rest soundly for now as the exhaustion of the battle took its toll.

Keturah blinked, kneeling alongside the bed to accommodate the sudden change in the other's position. Had it been sympathy that brimmed in the druid's eyes once sooty lashes had opened again? Her hands were still outstretched, healing light still glowing green through the fine leather of the gloves she wore. No, she would complete the healing whether the Lady awoke again or not, and so she kept diligently at her work. Attention, however, would break for just a moment at the reentry of the Knight, and Keturah shifted to look toward him before turning back to her task again. Steadily, she completed the healing, gaze turning wearily over her work. Standing at last, the druidess made her way from the cell, and talking briefly with the Knight, disappeared into another room of the jail, only to return later with a basin of warm water and cloths. The brunette took to removing the bandages that remained and cleaning the blood that remained from the wounds the Lady had sustained, despite the complaints she might have received had her patient been conscious. When she had finished, the druidess collected her things, exiting the cell as quickly as she had entered.

Meanwhile.. at the Rynvale Clinic..

Lirithen :: 'Twas a curious thing, Lirithen mused, as he watched unblinking the steady rise and fall of the paladin's chest, still tracing gentle circles with his forefinger across her open palm. Here was a woman, quite unlike himself. A wholly separate being, from a different world, with different capabilities, and yet... He could not shake the feeling that it was he who was wounded. Lirithen who was shut off from the world, Lirithen who's life was at stake. Would he be able to cope, if Valiana never awoke? His chest tightened at the thought, a shudder passing down his spine. Leaning forward he lowered his face towards her, planting a soft kiss upon the Lady's fair lips, before returning to his positioned crouched at her bedside, eye line fixated on Valiana's torso, watching her breathe, rise and fall, rise and fall. An endless, repetitive cycle... How many times would her bust lift and lower before her cerulean gaze looked into the ranger's emerald own?

Arien stood in the entrance to the clinic, watching the elf watch his love. She knew the look, for it had been in slate grey eyes that could not close in rest the previous morn, when she had finally made it home to quarters after the heat on battle. The wolf had watched her as if she might disappear before his very eyes and it had taken steady assurance that she was well, that they were both safe for slumber to finally arrive. Lirithen had no such assurance. “ She’ll be fine Liri…she has to be.” It was a quiet murmur as she walked across the room to his shoulder, emerald gaze resting upon Valiana’s pale still form. “ What of you..have your injuries been tended?”

Lirithen cared not for himself. Cuts and bruises were nothing, had even closed and scabbed already, and the full ache of the stomach wound Valiana had healed was becoming less and less with each passing hour; soon it would be gone for good. A dismissive wave came in response when the general questioned his well-being. "I am fine," a simple declaration, yet resolute, backed with a conviction the paladin would know she cannot shake, "I ate but an hour ago, in case you are wondering, and have even napped briefly." An uncomfortable hour spent with closed eyes, fingers wrapped tightly around the draconian's wrist, unable to fall into slumber lest the pulse fade beneath his touch, "she was in the middle of the blast... Her brain was just... Shocked, is all... She'll be awake in a few hours." Lirithen's tone shook with a thinly veiled worry, a toss of the head bringing silver curls to shield emerald eyes growing moist. Was it Arien at whom his were aimed, or himself?

Arien knew well enough when she was being dismissed, in a manner of speaking, or perhaps when a subject was being dismissed and chose to take the elf at his words. “Very well, it is one less thing about which to worry then.” Her eyes tracked to the pale form again. “I do not know how she survived..I was certain..the blast..she was right there.” Her eyes trailed to the silvery head and paused there. “ The gods she so devoutly served must have determined it was not her hour. Having spared her, I do not doubt she will be fully returned to us.” Arien moved then, to take up a seat on the opposite side of the bed, her own slender fingers trailing across the pale skin. “How found you things at the jail, who was the unknown man of whom Rose spoke?”

Lirithen said to you, "I saved her. Or I think I did... I wasn't really paying much attention..." Disjointed images flashed through his head, the encompassing blast, Valiana's shielded form, the Winds reaching outward... Silver curls whipped around his pale visage as he shook the memories from his mind. "'Twas the knight, and he's none too happy. Says we have three days to surrender custody of the Empress Leigh to him, or we will have another war on our hands." Brows furrowed and expression contorted, worry forming into great anger, "cowardly bastard. He waits until we are indisposed and recovering to make such threats. Asshole wouldn't know a fair fight if it slapped him in the face."

Arien frowned. Given the current condition of her men and the state of the island’s defenses, the knight had chosen wisely the timing of his demand. Leverage was his to use. Exhaustion, grief, and the general stress of post trauma was taking heavy toll on her forces. War, was quite simply not an option. Her eyes sought Lirithen’s. “Did he say why? Give a reason for his desire to retain her custody? A surrender must be secured, terms for her release decided before I allow the leader of the vanquished to walk out the door..” Worry teased at her brow, and clouded her gaze. “ I suppose we should be grateful he did not demand her release on the spot.” Rising form the bed she moved toward the window. “ I have three days..The results must be attained in that time.”

Lirithen said to you, "Oh, I don't bloody care. Something about her being a representative of order, or some similar nonsense. Just get what you have to get from her and hand her over." His tone quietened, a strained whisper filled with pain, "leave me, please..."

Arien turned to look at him, pensive thoughtfulness in emerald depths. She could understand the knight’s motivation, it was for such a reason that she had been glad to see Drael’s attempt on the life of the leader thwarted by Rho. But where the line for her had been drawn at taking the Emperesses life, it would seem for the knight-who seemed once more to be succumbing to the tenets of the code he had once more rigidly imposed upon himself- even her incarceration was an affront. She frowned, at no one in particular, the temptation to seek the man out and debate the merits of military stategy vs abstract principle powerful in the moment. She suspected it would be wasted energy. Her best course of action it seemed, would be to conduct her business in the allotted days-or cross that bridge when she got to it. A tired sigh escaped. It seemed the battles would not be over with the fighting. “Very well Liri, I will leave you to your vigil. Rho will be wondering at my wherabouts.” With a half bow of sorts and a last lingering look Valiana’s way, the elf would turn on her heel and make her way to the door, and out into the rapidly deepening night.