"She's escaping!" "After her!" "Catch her! Don't let her escape!!!"
The silence was broken by a group of soldiers running through the streets of Zantaric, shouting angrily, while shaking their spears, preparing to use them.
The target for their anger was a young, slender elf girl, meager from starvation and with bruises on all parts of the body that could be seen through the filthy rags she was wearing. Her dark hair was tousled and looked like it hadn't been washed in a while, and her beautiful dark eyes were filled with anxiety as she ran as fast as she could, trying to get away from the men.
Noticing the men closed in on her, she saw a last desperate hope of getting away by rushing towards the nearest house. But a starved little Dark Elf was no match for big, strong and well-trained soldiers.
"Stop her! Don't let the elf witch run away!" The soldiers roared to each other, not bothering to be discreet. After all, it was just an orphan they were going to arrest, not the Nobles this time. With a devilish grin one of the soldiers threw himself forwards to grab the elf girl. Only moments later, the silence was broken by horrible curse words from the soldier.
"@£$@£$€! She bites!!!" He groaned, clutching his arm, which was bleeding from a mark left behind by a set of very strong teeth.
"Then hit her, idiot! THEN grab her!" the others hissed and came to help him. The silence was again broken by the sound of a slap, and then a whimpering sound. It sounded like when someone kicked a helpless puppy, and when the crowd of soldiers finally climbed off the young girl, it also seeemed that way as they had bound her by tying a noose around her neck.
The child had a red mark on her cheek after the blow, and had tears in her big, dark eyes, but there was something spiteful in the way she stood and looked over at the men.
"You thought you could escape us, hmmmm?" the leader of the soldiers grinned. "You know what the Judge said. You have ONE last chance to change your ways of life, or you will end up in the gallows, like the criminal you are...."
The girl didn't respond, so one of the other soldiers took over, laughing while he spoke.
"Forget it, Captain. Nobody will adopt a girl like her, much less take responsibility for her actions. We might as well hang her right away."
The girl being tied and held firmly, could not escape the accusations towards her. She lowered her head and looked down, tears brimming up in her dark eyes. But tears did not affect the Captain. With harsh words he commanded his men to bring the girl to the gallow, already prepared and waiting for it's victim. The drummer boy started to sound his drums, the sound gathering a crowd of people, curious to see who would hang this time.
The girl did not say a word as she was dragged up on the platform. There was a calm resignation in her eyes, as if she had already given up on life. She stood proudly as the rope were tightened around her neck, the noose prepared for her death. The Captain pulled out a scroll, starting to read up the crimes for which she had ended here.
"Wild the Elf have been judged for numerous crimes. Over and over again has she managed to escape the law, but today our brave soldiers managed to capture her. She will pay for her sins - unless anyone in this crowd will take responsibility for her actions and teach her the errors of her ways."
The soldiers laughed among themselves as the Captain read these words, as if they were certain the girl was beyond help already. The girl stood on the platform, looking down at the crowd - all hope gone from her eyes.
"Hold!"
The loud, strong voice rang out through the square. The crowd around the gallows parted as a man stepped forward. He was an elf with pale blue skin and silver hair that fell down his back. he wore dark blue leather armor and a long dark cloak. There was a bow and a quiver of arrows on his back, and a long dagger at his waist, but no weapons were drawn. He held himself with an air of confidence and command as he moved forward, his cloak swishing around his ankles and his tall boots hitting the ground with barely a sound.
"I protest to this hanging," he said, an air of authority in his voice. He walked up to the gallows and up at the girl and the guards standing on the raised platform. His silver eyes piercing them all as he looked over them. "I would like to assist the aforementioned condemned, and take this matter into my own personal control and do as I see fit." Despite his ranger-like appearance, he spoke the words as if he knew how to handle legal matters.
There was no mercy for a sinner like her. The elf could see it as she was dragged away by the soldiers, peltered with rotten tomatoes and any other garbage the self-righteous citizens of Zantaric could find as she was dragged through the streets like an animal on its way to the slaughterhouse. The girl did not speak when the rotten groceries hit her, neither did she yell back to the simple farmers shouting curse words after her, naming her things nobody would call their worst enemy. As the soldiers dragged her up on the gallows platform, the ragged sleeves of her blouse was pulled up for a moment, revealing a thin arm covered in cuts and bruises, fresh wounds and old wounds alike. It was clear that this was not the first time anyone had used violence towards her.
The girl shuddered as a farmer threw a rotten egg in her head. The raw, smelly liquids of the egg slowly glided over her face, and remains of egg shell landed in her dark, curly hair. The citizens roared with laughter, spiteful words where shouted at the elf who stood on the platform with her hands tied, a quiet and pathetic little sitting duck for anyone who wanted to amuse themselves by tossing stones.
The elf just lowered her head, trying to make herself as invisible as possible while the waves of haughty laughter crashed over her, hoping they would leave as soon as they had finished their fun. Tears of shame threatened to fill her eyes, but she was too proud to cry in public. Tears would get her nowhere, she knew that. The rope around her neck felt strong and tight, and she was certain that she soon would die and get away from her tormentors for good... The soldiers seemed to think the same, for they all stood and sharpened their weapons, each and every one of them hoping to be the one to slit her throat with their daggers. The Dark Elf swallowed back her tears, preparing to die when....
"Hold!" a loud, strong voice sounded from the crowd... "I protest to this hanging,"
There was a shocked silence falling over the crowd when the voice spoke. Everyone looked around, trying to find out who was crazy enough to take a devil child like this under his wings. The soldiers glared suspiciously at the elf, certain that this was one of her magic tricks, but she seemed just as shocked as everyone else, looking around to see who had spoken.
At last they saw him: an elf with pale blue skin and silver hair that fell down his back. The soldiers looked at each other when he spoke. There was an air of command around the man, he was clearly not a man to disobey.
"I would like to assist the aforementioned condemned, and take this matter into my own personal control and do as I see fit."
The soldiers paused as the male elf made his way through the crowd towards the gallows, unsure of what to do and who to obey, but the Captain of the soldiers thought he owed the elf man a fair warning. "A-Are you sure you want to do this, Mylord?" he asked. "She may look innocent, but trust me... she is a little devil!"
Another soldier leaned towards the man and mumbled warningly in his ear. "She is one of them!" he whispered, clearly too afraid to tell who "them" was.
The girl stood at the stage and heard the discussion. From the look on her pale face, meager from starvation and thirst, she expected the man to give up before he had even started. She was wearing a sack-like dress, so ragged and dirty that it could hardly be called clothes. Her body was covered in layers of dirt. It was only the bright sunlight that indicated her skin had once been fair. Now she was covered in cuts and bruises, all in all she looked like she could need a good bath and a hair wash. Her eyes was still the worst part of her. Her gaze was disillusioned from seeing things not meant for the eyes of a child her age. And what age she was, she barely knew herself. Her body, or what was visible through the filthy rags, was too starved to give any indication of how old she was.
Perhaps it was the horrid stench which followed the girl that made the soldiers finally release her, leaving her in the care of the recently arrived elf man. The Captain was glad to get rid of her, but he still had some words of farewell for the elf man.
"I leave her in your care, Mylord," he said, his voice stern. "But if she makes ONE more mistake.... ONE more crime to her name.... You will BOTH hang. Do we have a deal?"
Kilarhas nodded at their warning, and he looked at the elf girl's face. "We will only hang if the crime is committed here, in Zantaric, anywhere else, it is not your problem. Deal?"
Not waiting for a answer, the elf climbed the steps of the gallows and onto the platform, all the while not looking away from the elf girl's face. He walked over to the elf girl and took her arm. His grip was firm, but not rough.
"Come with me," he said softly, starting to lead her away. Then he looked up at the guards around. In truth, he was disgusted that they would hang someone, but he kept his expression impassive. Kilarhas had only heard of a few hangings that the condemned actually deserved their fate. Most of the time the victims of hangings, though mislead, and sometimes even crazy, did not deserve to die in such a way. And Kilarhas doubted that the elf girl deserved death, even if she had committed murder.
Kilarhas walked down the steps, and then turned to look back up at the guards. "Thank you," he said, nodding to them, then he turned and walked away through the now dispersing crowd. Some people jeered at him, mad that they hadn't been able to see a hanging. Kilarhas ignored them, they were just as bad, or worse, than the guards. They had been looking forward to a death!
When they were well away from any people, and walking down a deserted streets, Kilarhas looked down at the girl. "What were your crimes, exactly?" he asked bluntly. "What did you do to deserve such a fate?"
The Captain of the guard looked like he had swallowed a barrel of lemons when the male elf said they would only hang if the crime was committed here in Zantaric. But before he got a chance to answer the male elf had stepped onto the gallows, walking towards the young elf girl.
The elf girl froze in fear as the man came towards her. Her dark eyes, one of them covered in a black bruise, looked enormous in the starved and batted face. Clearly she was used to rough treatment and prepared mentally for what was to come. But the brutal grip she expected did not come. She looked up at him in surprise, but did not protest when he told her to come with him.
When he started leading her away she followed him meekly. Anything was better than getting hanged by this crowd of very hostile strangers. Not a word of protest came over her lips. Perhaps she was afraid he would change his mind and return her to the soldiers? Not wanting to risk anything she followed him like a shadow as he made his way through the now dispersing crowd. Her face was lowered towards the ground, and she tried to avoid meeting their gazes. Even so, she could feel their hatred as they glared at her.
They had walked away from the crowd and were walking down a deserted street when the male elf spoke to her again, asking her what she had done. The she elf lowered her head, trying to hide her battered face behind a veil of dark, unwashed hair.
"They found me beside the body of a dead man," she said in a barely audible voice. "They accused me of killing him... The soldiers tortured me to force me to confess..."
"And did you?" Kilarhas asked when she answered him. "Kill the man, I mean?"
As he waited for her answer, he contemplated what they were going to do next, besides go to an inn, of course. He had had no intentions of saving a young elf when he came to Zantaric, but he could not have let her hang, so now he had to come up with something to do. He didn't know how damaged, mentally and physically, the girl was, and what kind of care she would need. He decided just to wing it, go with whatever comes up.
Despite his unsure thoughts, Kilarhas's face remained confident and collected, he needed to make a first impression upon this girl, and he didn't want it to be one of a nervous ranger.
Wild shook her head slowly when the male elf asked if she had killed the man. In her mind she could still see the images from the horrid night where she had been on her way home from a burglar job and heard the faint calls for help from a dark alley.
"No," she said quietly. "I was on my way home from work when I heard faint calls for help from a dark alley. They sounded so pained that I had to go there to find out who it was. I came in time to see a large, dark figure attacking a shorter and stouter figure. When the large figure heard my footsteps, he ran off.
The shorter figure laid on the ground, bleeding. He was seriously wounded, and when I approached him I could see he had multiple stab woulds. His breath was short and pained, and he was unable to speak - to tell me who his killer was. He died as I tried to stop the bleeding.
A woman came through the doorway of a nearby house and saw me as I sat there kneeling by the man's side. She had a lantern in her hand, and in the faint light she could see my bloodstained clothes and the dead man beside me. She started screaming, and the sound of her screams alerted the guards. They caught me and tormented me to force a confession from me before they brought me to the gallows. They were convinced I was guilty and wanted to see me hang. Then you showed up."
She looked up at him when she spoke. There was no lies in her big, dark eyes. She might be a Master thief and professional catburglar, but she had never killed anyone. A thief wanted to stay away and avoid attention, and she wouldn't be able to do that if she ran around killing someone.
Kilarhas nodded, he believed her. "What was your job?" he asked when she finished her story. Kilarhas was not surprised by the guards forcing her to confess, this was, after all, Zantaric. The people here were not exactly all for fair trials. Kilarhas had only traveled to the town because he had been after some information on a gang. He had gotten it, but now he needed to focus on helping this elf girl in any way her could.
By now they had come upon an inn. It was fairly respectable, for Zantaric, at least, and Kilarhas led the way inside. He walked over to the bar and got a room.
The elf girl lowered her head when Kilarhas asked what her former job was. She knew that stealing was wrong, and she never wanted a job like that - but what choice did she have? If she refused her former Masters would hurt her friends. At least that was what they threatened to do. Wild never disobeyed for long enough to find out if they meant it.
"Master thief and professional catburglar," she said quietly, tears of shame filling her dark eyes. "I didn't want to, but my Masters threatened to hurt my friends if I refused."
She followed him to a place that looked like an inn. It looked cleaner than any place she had seen for the last 13 years, and she followed the male elf as he walked over to the bar. She was afraid to stray too far away from him, in case the soldiers in the city guard changed their mind and decided to hang her after all.
Kilarhas raised his eyes at the girl when she answered, but he made no comment. He started for the stairs up to the second floor of the inn. When they got to the room Kilarhas lit a lamp and turned to the elf girl.
"You look like you need a bath," he said. "So I've called for water to be brought up here in a tub, when it get's here, I'll go downstairs and get some food for us to eat while you get clean, then when you're ready, we can eat and I have a few questions I need to ask you."
He rummaged around in his pack for a few moments and then pulled out a white shirt and a pair of pants. "These will be much to big for you, but you can wear them if you like, then tomorrow we'll get you some better clothes."
There was a knock on the door. Kilarhas opened it to find two men carrying a tub full of warm water. They bright it into the room, along with some soap and a washcloth, then they left.
"I'll get some food, and you get cleaned up," Kilarhas said, picking up his pack, but leaving the shirt and pants. Then he left the room, closing the door behind him.
Wild noticed the male elf raising his eyes at her when she spoke of her past, but the harsh comments she had expected never came. She wondered what he was thinking when he heard this. Would he kick her out on her butt now that he knew? Or would he still keep her under his charge? Well, that remained to be seen.
She squinted her eyes as the light was turned, having traveled in darkness for so long. The last light she had seen was the lantern in the hands of the woman who called the city guards.
A sheepish smile washed over her face when he commented on her need of a bath, admitting that he had a point. She felt the stench like a green cloud around her, and was grateful for the chance to do something about it.
"Thank you, Sir," she said humbly, not sure what to call him. He had not said his name yet, but from what little manners she still remembered from her childhood she figured it was best to be polite and use words like thank you and please when she spoke to him. "I will be glad to have a bath to be honest - I can't remember the last time I was clean."
She wondered how he would react if he knew that she used to roll herself with mud when she stayed with her former Masters, to avoid getting raped. They were men that would do cruel things to pretty girls and she did not want to share the destiny of said girls. So even if her Masters had forced her into the dark paths of the Thief, she had still kept her purity as a virgin.
Her face lit up in a brief smile when he spoke of food, and her stomach growled in anticipation. When did she eat last? She couldn't even remember. Nor could she remember the last time she was lucky enough to have her fill. The promise of food lifted her mood a little, and she nodded when he said he had a few questions for her after the meal.
"Of course, Sir," she replied. "I will be happy to answer anything you need to ask."
Her dark orbs followed his hands as he rummaged around in his pack, pulling out a white shirt and a pair of pants. Another brief smile washed over her face when she realized the clothes were offered to her as a loan until she could get better clothes. Her own sad excuse for clothes were little more than dirty rags, so worn that their best use would be as fuel to the firewood.
"They are better than the ones I am wearing, Sir," she said, gesturing towards her rags. "What should we do with my old clothes after the bath?"
The knock on the door startled the girl and she moved closer to the male elf, afraid that the soldiers in the city guard had changed their minds and wanted to hang her after all. But she relaxed a bit as she saw the two men carrying the tub full of warm water. They were not dressed like soldiers, but it could still be a trap...
A quick glance towards the door told her that no soldiers were following after the two men, and she felt a bit better. She nodded briefly when the male elf told her to get cleaned up. As soon as he left the room and closed the door behind him, she dropped her filthy rags on the floor and stepped into the bath tub, carrying the bar of soap with her. Her boots were worn out and just as filthy as the rest of her clothes, so she left them beside the rags and decided to walk around in bare feet until she could find new boots.
A trembling smile washed over her face when she felt the nice temperature in the water, and she sat down in the tub, starting to scrub and wash herself as best she could. It felt good to get clean again, and the bath was much needed. The water in the tub had a disgusting grey color when she was done, but she looked cleaner than she had been in years, and the horrid stench that had followed her the last 13 years was gone. Gone was also the bar of soap, she had to use all of it to wash properly.
Now that she was clean, her fair skin was visible. Sadly her cuts, wounds and bruises were also more visible now. She had a large, swollen bruise in a black color over her right eye, and bruises in all forms and all the colors of the rainbow were scattered all over her body. She had scars on her back, showing that someone had enjoyed punishing her by whipping her as hard as they possibly could. Some of these bruises were fresh, evidence that the city guards really had tormented her to confess to the murder they wanted to hang her for. Other wounds were older, a clear proof that this girl had been a victim to domestic violence for years. She was so skinny that her ribs were showing. Clearly she was used to not being fed.
The girl dried off her body, whimpering a little from pain as the fabrics of the towel touched some of her wounds. Some of them were still painful to touch. But for now she had to ignore it. When she was dry, she dressed up in the clothes the male elf had left for her on the bed.
The clothes were a tad too big for her, but they were better than the rags she had worn before her bath. She made a feeble attempt to comb her hair with her fingers, hoping to get rid of at least some of the tousles. But she knew she would need some mineral oil and a hairbrush to get rid of the rest, and she had neither.
Kilarhas walked down into the barroom and went up to the bar. He leaned against it, waiting for the bartender to come, and looked around the room. The place was full, but not loud and raucous like most other places in Zantaric.
"What can I get for ye?" KIlarhas turned around to see the bartender waiting for him to order.
"Two plates with a little of every food you've got," the elf said, and the bartender nodded.
"Will this be for you and yer slave?"
Kilarhas's eyes blazed, and the bartender stepped back at the look in the elf's eyes. "She is not my slave." he stated, and he took a breath to calm himself. The bartender, eyes wide, nodded and rushed of intro the back. When he returned a few minutes later, Kilarhas gave him the correct payment and took the food.
He went upstairs and he entered the room after making sure that the elven girl was fully dressed.
"Here you go," he said, handing her one of the plates of food. "Oh, and no need for all that 'sir' stuff. You and I are equals, okay?"
He sat down on one of the beds and motioned for the girl to do the same. He was surprised at the number of bruises on her. "Are you bleeding in any place?" he asked. He couldn't do much for bruises, but a cut? That he knew how to take care of.
"I am Kilarhas, Kilarhas Gindien. What is your name?"
While the male elf was down in the bar hunting for food, Wild waited patiently in the room, enjoying her bath and afterwards the feel of fresh, clean clothes against her skin. She tried to get rid of the worst tousles in her hair by dragging her fingers through them.
While she finger-combed her hair she whimpered with pain. A couple of her fingers were swollen, and when she looked at them she feared they might be broken.
Her meager face lit up in a smile when her saviour returned to the room, carrying two plates of food. Seeing his hands were full, she rushed towards him, wanting to keep the door open for him so he could enter the room without having to drop any of the food at the floor.
Her eyes widened when she saw the full plates of food. She could not even remember the last time she had seen this much food in one place. And she was allowed to taste it? Her former Masters had showed a sadistic joy in eating in front of their starving slaves. They never shared their food, not even the remains when they had their fill.
"Thank you," she said, gratefully accepting the offered plate of food while her stomach growled in anticipation.
When he said he and she were equals a broad smile appeared on her face for the first time since they first met. "Yes sir," she replied quickly. "Thank you, sir."
As he sat down on one of the beds, she sat down beside him, placing her plate on the nightstand to make it easier stuffing her face with food using both hands.
She nodded when he asked if she was bleeding in any place. "It feels like my back is still bleeding from when the Captain of the city guard whipped me with an iron chain," she whispered shyly. "I can't see my back though. I can't turn my head all the way around... And it feels like two of my fingers are broken... I also think I am bleeding from several cuts on my body. I haven't counted all the wounds yet..."
She listened when he introduced himself as Kilarhas Gindien. It sounded like an Elven name, and she noticed he had two of them. In her tribe each member had a name that was significant just for them.
"My name is Wild," she said. "We didn't have any last names in my tribe."
Kilarhas shook his head and chuckled when she again called him sir. "Call me, Kilarhas, please," he said, starting to eat.
"I'll take a look at your back as soon as we're finished eating," he said. "I'm sure there is something I can do, I'm pretty good at taking care of wounds. I'm a mage, you see, and though spells can help me with healing some wounds, I am also quite adept with dressings and other medical practices as well, though I'm not an expert."
He nodded when she introduced herself. "It's very good to meet you, Wild," he said. They ate in silence for a few moments, and when Kilarhas was finished he stood up and set his plate down on the table. He had given the fuller plate to Wild, as the elven girl needed it more than he did.
He opened his pack and started to remove a few items. Some bottles and bandages and a few small pieces of wood, for splints, if they were needed.
"When you are done eating, I can leave the room and you can put your shirt on backwards so the buttons are in the back, and then I can treat the wounds there without you taking off your shirt completely, would that be okay?"
Wild smiled when Kilarhas told her to call him by his first name. "Yes, s.... Kilarhas!" she replied, blushing when she nearly called him sir for the third time in a row. It would take some training to remember that she was not a slave anymore, but she thought she was off to a good start.
With a happy smile on her face she dived into her plate of food. As hungry as she was she had no concern for table manners. She grabbed the food with both hands and stuffed her face with it as best she could. Her cheeks looked like hamster cheeks, and she chomped the food loudly and smacking her mouth. All in all she gave quite a show of really sloppy eating.
"This tastes really good," she said between the mouthfuls. At least that was what she was trying to say - but it sounded more like "bmmm-hmmm-bmmm"
She listened when he offered to have a look at her back when they were finished eating. There was something hesitant in her eyes for a moment. She had never undressed in front of a man before. And yet she knew that her wounds needed to be tended to before they got infected.
With a loud gulp she swallowed the last bite of food, and was nearly choking. Luckily she managed to force down the lump of food in her throat without it getting stuck on the way down her system.
Memo to self, she thought to herself. Next time smaller bites and more chewing before swallowing....
Her eyes sparkled with joy when he told her that he was a mage. "Are you a mage?" she repeated, a beaming smile lighting up her face. "My mother was a Shaman Healer. I managed to save one of her ancient tomes when the goblin troops burned down our village.
There are lots of strange scribbles inside, but I don't know how to read... Perhaps you will have a look when we are done tending to my wounds. I saw my parents sitting with this book together in the moonlight after my bedtime."
After finishing her meal she stood up and placed her plate on the table just like he had done. The meal gave her new energy and increased her mood considerably. "Ah, that hit the spot," she sighed happily. "Thank you so much, Kilarhas. Now you have saved my life for the second time. I don't know how I can ever repay you."
She watched as he opened his pack, smiling when she recognized the kind of tools he retrieved from his belongings. Her mother had used similar things in her work as a Shaman Healer.
She listened to his instructions for how she could put her shirt on backwards, glad she wasn't forced to undress in front of him. He was a very kind man, but she had only just met him and was still a bit shy of undressing in front of a man.
"I think that was a good idea," she agreed with a smile and nodded in agreement. "If you wait on the outside of the door I can call out to you when I have turned the shirt around."
Kilarhas stepped forward when she seemed to choke, but stopped when she recovered quickly.
He listened while she told him of her mother, and the book, but shook his head when she apologised. "Not need to thank me," he said. "It's what I do, I'm a ranger, and all around adventurer, you don't have to do anything for me."
Then he stood and left the room. It would only take a moment for her to flip around the shirt, so, after closing the door behind him, he stood there and waited for her call.
He wondered how she had gotten int her position as a thief, he would have to ask her. He hoped it hadn't been to traumatic for her, but he had little conviction that this was true, she had seemed so dejected when he had saved her, so resigned to her fate when she had been up on the gallows.
Wild listened to Kilarhas when he spoke of being a ranger and all around adventurer. "What is a ranger?" she asked with interest. "We never had any rangers in my village. We had adventurers though. Brave men, some of them perhaps too brave. I remember a few of them leaving to seek fame and fortune, and then never be seen again. My village had dangerous surroundings where it was easy to get lost."
She smiled when he did not expect any thanks for saving her. He seemed like a good man. "In that case I will offer you to look in my book of spells out of friendship," she said. "I have heard that a mage always is in need of a new spell - a new way to surprise old enemies. Is that true?"
When he left the room she waited until the door had closed behind him before unbuttoning her shirt and flipping it around like he had suggested. When she was done, she sat on the bed, her back turned towards the door.
"I am ready now," she called out, knowing he was waiting on the other side of the door. "The shirt is turned, and my wounds are ready for inspection."
"A ranger is a person, male or female, elf or not, who watches over woodlands," Kilarhas said before leaving the room, "one who is often a part of nature, and who cares about it deeply."
When she said she was ready, Kilarhas came back into the room and walked up behind her. He crouched on the floor and looking at her wounds. He grimaced, it was terrible, not only the raw, fresh wounds, but the scars from whippings past. The elven mage reached over to his things on the floor and took a bottle and a piece of soft cloth. Before he started to clean the wounds, he started to talk, it was a good distraction, and also questions he needed answers to.
"I'm going to have to ask you eventually, so I may as well do it now," Kilarhas said, dampening the cloth with some of the liquid in the bottle. "Where did you come from? And how did you become a thief?"
Halfway through he started to gently clean the open wounds, it would sting, but, hopefully, not unbearably so for Wild.
Wild smiled when Kilarhas explained to her what a ranger was. She had always loved the woodlands, and she was glad that someone took the trouble to watch over it.
"I love the woodlands too," she said. "There used to be a forest around the village where I was born. But I fear it burned down along with my village when the enemy attacked..."
She heard Kilarhas when he came back to the room walking up behind her. She felt no fear for him now that she had seen his kindness, so she sat still on the bed, allowing him to inspect her wounds to decide what to do with them.
His question about where she came from and how she became a thief was expected. He had the right to know who he had taken under his wings.
"As I told you, S... Kilarhas, my name is Wild. My father was a Dark Elf, the chieftain of the village of Mir, far away from here. My mother was a Light Elf and a Shaman Healer. When I was 5 years old a band of orcs and goblins attacked my village, and I was forced to escape. My village was burned to the ground, and I don't even know if it exists anymore. The last thing I saw was my parents being stabbed by enemy swords."
She paused for a moment, her voice pained by the memories and her eyes filled with mist.
"I ran through the forest the whole night, afraid that the enemy troops would catch me. But instead I was captured by evil men. They brought me to a dirty and cold house of stone where I was kept as their prisoner, together with a group of other children. Two men came into the room, demanding we called them our Masters. They forced me to become a thief, a pickpocket and a cat burglar. I tried to refuse, but they threatened to hurt the other children if I denied. So I had no choice but to obey. For 13 years I have been trained at scaling any wall, roof or ceiling, picking any lock or stealing any item no matter where it is placed. There was no room I could not enter through door or window. I was also trained to stay quiet and avoid detection. At the end of my training you can say I became quite Masterful. I never kept any of the stolen loot for myself. Everything I took went straight into the pocket of my Masters..."
She had kept her eyes lowered when she spoke of her past. This was a part of her story she was not proud of, and she wanted nothing more to do with her old life.
"I was also trained to use weapons if I one day should be forced to defend myself," she continued. "My arrows fly as fast as the birds in the sky, and they hit almost anything they aim for. My dagger is fast and accurate, just as silent as its owner."
Finally she was done telling of her shameful past, and she looked up at him again. Tears of shame were filling her eyes, as if she already expected him to toss her back out in the streets.
"I hated every moment of my life as a thief, Kilharas," she said quietly. "I have left my former Masters, and they didn't take it well. They gave me a severe beating when I departed. All I want now is to start a new life, getting myself a good honest job."
As he gently started to clean her wounds, she whimpered with pain every time it would sting, but she forced herself to sit still so he could treat her wounds before they got infected.
Kilarhas grimaced as she told him her story. It was indeed terrible. "I'm sorry," he said softly as he continued to clean her wounds, being as gentle and careful as possible.
"I was born a prince in an elven kingdom in Southern Le'raana, and while it may sound nice, it wasn't all that," Kilarhas said. She had told him her story, so he would tell her his. "And though I didn't suffer a hundredth as much as you must have, I did not have loving parents or a full childhood. When I was eighteen a evil lord came, who wanted to take control over my people. My parents, the king and queen, wanted to hand over the kingdom to prevent a war, but I knew that if the evil lord took power, the lives of my people would be miserable. They would be held in the iron fist of the lord, never free.
So I gathered some of my closest friends and followers, and we snuck into the lord's castle. We assassinated him, and returned to our kingdom. The lords followers attacked, but without their leader they were undisciplined and were easily cut down by the elven warriors. We sustained very few losses, and I had prevented our people from living in terror of the rule the lord would have had if we had not killed him. But we had disobeyed my fathers orders, and even though we saved the kingdom, he was going to banish us all, but my accomplices lied to him, telling him that I had forced them to do it, that I had threatened them, so they had been set free, and only I was banished."
Kilarhas grimaced even thinking about it. "So now I travel the world, and I must admit, it is far more interesting than ruling ever could be, for me at least. I love adventure, the thrill, the fun."
He had finished cleaning her wounds and started to gently, but firmly, bind them. "What do you want to do with your life, Wild?" he asked. "What kind of job would you like?"
Wild smiled sadly when Kilarhas showed sympathy afting hearing her story. "Thank you," she replied softly, sitting still as he continued cleaning her wounds. It stung now and then, but she knew it would be better once the wounds were bandaged.
She listened with interest when he started telling his own story. It did not surprise her to hear that he was a prince of blood. He did have an air of command around him. Her eyes filled with compassion when she heard him telling about his parents, so much less loving than her own. While she had kept her parents for only 5 years, they had still been loving the short while she kept them as her family.
She did not like the evil lord who sought to take over the Kingdom of Kilarhas and was glad to hear that Kilarhas and his friends had assassinated him. But a frown crossed her face when she heard how his friends later stabbed Kilarhas in the back, leaving to him to take all the blame. What kind of friends were they? Nobody betrayed their friends like that!
"I'm sorry," she said softly, spontaneously placing her hand over his for a brief moment to show her sympathy. "It was rude of your friends to pin it all on you - and it was even worse that your father believed in them and banished you. I know I am no angel, but I could never stab someone's back to feather my own nest..."
She smiled when he spoke of traveling the world and seek adventure - it sounded like a lovely and free life, a life that she could only dream of before she met him. She mused for a moment when he asked her what she wanted to do with her life and what kind of job she would like.
"You know, I have never given it much of a thought," she said. "Before I met you I lived a very unsafe life. I never knew if I would live to see the next morning, and kinda tried to survive one day after the other. It never occured to me that I would have a future."
She mused for a moment thinking of what kind of job she would like.
"I am not sure," she said. "I guess my choice is kind of limited, since I don't know how to read or write. I imagine reading and writing increases your chances in a job hunt. The only thing I know is stealing - but I don't want to steal. I also know my way around a tool box and can repair things that get broken."
"You said you were good with a bow and daggers," Kilarhas said, continuing to tie on the bandages. "You could become a ranger or a mercenary. Or you could be an adventurer and quest-taker." Kilarhas laughed. "I do all of those things! Though if I take a job as a mercenary I only do it for good causes."
When he finished binding the wounds he stood and walked around the bed to sit beside Wild. "Those wounds, though deep and long, are not infected," the elf said, "and they should stay clean with the poultice I put on them and if we regularly change the bandages."
He carefully took her hand in his own and started to gently feel her fingers for any breaks. "You know, I can help you learn to read and write, if you like," he said. "Though I must admit, I may not be the best teacher."
He set down her hand. "Two of your fingers are broken, your right finger and middle finger, does your other hand hurt?"
Wild smiled by the thought of the things Kilarhas said she could become. "What is a mercenary?" she asked. The expression was new to her, as her former Masters were men of poor if any education and had used simpler words. "It sounds fun to be able to travel the world and seek adventure though. I don't know how to be a ranger. Can you teach me?"
She was glad to hear that her wounds were not infected. There were times where she had worried as she laid herself to sleep and felt the aching of her wounds. "Thank you," she said as he finished binding her wounds. "It doesn't hurt as much now that they are taken care of. I agree that we should change the bandages regularly."
She allowed him to take her hand into his, knowing it was necessary if he was going to examine the hurt in her hands. Her face lit up in a smile when he offered to teach her how to read and write. "I would love to learn how to read and write," she said softly. "And you are the only one who has offered to teach me. Thank you."
She nodded when he informed her as two of her fingers were broken. She had been unable to bend them after the Captain of the city guard and his men had tortured her. "My other hand hurts too," she said. "It hurts when I try bending my fingers, but at least I can see them moving when I try bending them."
"A mercenary is a person who does jobs for people for a sum of money," Kilarhas said, taking Wild's other hand in his and feeling gently. "They most often do fighting jobs, but not always. They may guard a caravan, take a quest, even take in someone for a bounty."
Kilarhas set her hand down and got up, walking over to his bag. "Those fingers are not broken," he said. "One is sprained, and the others badly bruised." he picked up some of the things that he had taken out of the bag and went back over to Wild, sitting again beside her. He set the things between them and took the hand with the broken fingers. "I can teach you to be a ranger," he said, and then, in one, quick, motion, he snapped two bones back into place. "Sorry!" he said. "I know that was probably painful, but if I hadn't done it, the bones would have grown back in the wrong places. When the pain goes away I'll continue," he said. "Tell me when you're ready."
Wild listened to Kilarhas as he explained to her what a mercenary was, whimpering a little with pain as he felt over her other hand. "Fighting jobs?" she said. "I don't know.... I know how to defend myself, and I do so when it is needed, but I don't see myself as a warrior. The quests sound fun though. What kind of mercenary jobs do you do?"
She was relieved to hear that the city guard had not been able to break fingers on both her hands. She watched as he set the things between them, wondering what they were. "I think I would love to become a ranger," she said, then giving a loud squeal of pain as he snapped the two bones back to place. "Especially if you are going to teach me."
"Oh, that hurt," she whimpered, wiggling her fingers. Then a smile crossed her face when she felt the pain slowly fading away. "But now it feels much better. Thank you so much..."
She took a break and caught a deep breath, nodding when he said he would continue when the pain went away. "I am ready now," she said. "Please continue..."
Kilarhas nodded when she said to continue. He started to put a splint on her two broken fingers and then gently but firmly bind a bandage around them. "For your other fingers we will have to use ice, if the bar has some. I'm pretty sure they would, but if not, we'll just have to use a rag soaked in cold water. As well as that I'll have to bind them together, it will help with the swelling."
"As for mercenary jobs," Kilarhas said, continuing to bind her fingers in splints. "I most often guard caravans and take quests. I also am hired to go after evil beings and people. I do that anyway, but I have to make a living, the coin doesn't hurt!"
Wild sat still, allowing him to treat her broken fingers. Even if it hurt a bit when he bandaged them she knew the wounds would heal faster now that they had been bandaged. She nodded when he spoke of ice or a rag soaked in cold water.
"I am quite certain there will be ice in the bar," she said. "Considering how many humans who like ice in their drinks."
She listened when he spoke of mercenary jobs. His words about caravans and taking quests sounded exciting, also the part going after evil beings and people. "If you ever get a mission going after my former Masters," she said. "I will be more than willing to help you catch them. I know all their hiding places and how to get there. I also know how to open the locks to each hiding place."
Kilarhas raised his eyebrows and nodded when she said she could help him catch her former captors.
"That would be very helpful, Wild," Kilarhas said. "Where do your captors live? Are they here, in Zantaric? Or somewhere else entirely?"
Wild nodded when Kilarhas asked if she could help him catch her former captors. Even if she did not have the physical strength to tackle Master to the ground, she did know how to open his advanced locks and contraptions. Because she couldn't read or write she had developed an excellent memory, remembering all the things she had seen. She could even have copied down Master's notes on a piece of paper word for word, even if she could not have read it afterwards to explain what it said.
My former Master was a disgusting pig, calling himself Professor Frank N. Stein," she explained. "And he kept himself with an equally disgusting creep called Igor. He stays mainly here in Zantaric, where his main laboratory is - and it is here he keeps the majority of his prisoners. He does travel a bit though, trying to find new victims to put into his hellish contraptions."
She shuddered, and her pale skin got a pale green addition in color. "I don't think you will wish to know what he did to the victims afterwards..." she mumbled. "It was... disgusting... I was supposed to be next. That's why I ran away. I can't overpower Master, as he is a very LARGE man - but overpowering Igor is a piece of cake..."
(OoC: I made Wild's former Master yesterday. He is up for plot if Kilarhas wants to try capturing him ^^ )
Kilarhas frowned. "Igor?" he asked. He assumed they Igor was one of Wild's captors, but whoever they were, they sounded horrible, and Kilarhas couldn't imagine what Wild's life was like after she was captured.
"You're free now, Wild," Kilarhas said. "You don't have to call him master anymore."
Kilarhas knew from past experience that if you called a being by it's true name, it lowered the fear factor, despite how horrible the being was. Rather than calling a shadow demon 'The Dark Lord', calling by it's true name makes it less terrifying, at least by a small amount.
(OoC: Igor is Master's assistant, played by my RL best friend Silvertongue. She is also eager to get to plot with you ^^ )
Wild nodded when Kilaras asked about Igor. "His name is Igor Shutupsky Petrov," she said. "Shutupsky is the name M.... Professor Stein uses when he's mad at him. And that, truth be told, is quite often. He is a sly little sneak of a man, but strong. He uses dirty tricks when he fights and will stab your back if you turn away from him. I think in a pressed situation he would sell out his own mother if he had one."
She looked worried when Kilaras said she was free. "But for how long?" she asked. "I have been their prisoner for 13 years. I know way too much about them - about their secrets. Do you really think they will just let me leave to live my own life? I fear they will chase after me and kill me - as I have seen enough to help get them imprisoned for life."
She smiled and looked up at Kilarhas. "I am not afraid when you are here though," she said. "I didn't think men could be as kind as you are... Thank you."
"You are very welcome," Kilarhas said. "And, sadly, I agree with you, I do not think you have seen the last of Stien. But if, or when, they come after you, we will be ready."
Kilarhas finished binding her fingers and looked at her face. "Are there any other wounds that need tending? Cuts, bruises?"
Wild smiled and nodded when Kilarhas agreed that she had probably not seen the last of Professor Stein. She had expected that much, and she also knew that Igor would be seething with anger after he had discovered she had stolen his lockpicks and helped the other orphans to escape.
"I only hope the others managed to get away," she said. "And that Igor didn't manage to catch them and bring them back. The youngest kid I freed was only 4 years old... I helped them escape when I freed myself from the orphanage.
Well, it says Orphanage on the door - but in reality it is a run-down house that soon will fall over the poor kids trapped inside. And in the basement Dr. Frank has his secret laboratory and the dungeons for kids who dares to protest.
He uses children and young women for his experiments and keeps them in cages when they are not testing out his contraptions. I think you would be very angry if I told you what more he does to them..."
She nodded when Kilarhas spoke of being ready for Master and Igor if and when they came after her. It was rather a question of when. "Professor Stein is a fat man and will most likely stay in his secret laboratory or torment the kids at the orphanage," she said. "Now and then he travels with horse and carriage when he has to go somewhere. I doubt he would leave his comfort zone over an orphan - it is more likely he'll send Igor. Igor is not as fat as Professor Stein - he kinda looks like a midget. A rather mean and nasty midget. I think you could easily overpower him if he tries anything. He will fight dirty though, using dirty tricks. I will warn you of that now, so you won't be surprised if you have to fight him."
She blushed and looked down when Kilarhas asked for other wounds. "Mas... Professor Stein tried to cut off my blouse in the front with a sharp knife when he tried to force me into one of his horrible contraptions," she said. "I have a thin, long gash in the skin across my... chest area... I have tried to keep it clean, but I fear it needs stitches. And as you know, it is very hard to patch up yourself... It's easier patching up others..."
Kilarhas grit his teeth when Wild told him about Professor Stein and his experiments, but his face softened when Wild told him of the cut on her chest.
"I know of a healer who works near here. She is a contact of mine, and despite living in Zantaric, is a kind woman," Kilarhas said. "It would be better not to leave this room, in case you are seen by Stein or Igor, but it seems that we should go there now. She will be able to take care of your wound. Do you agree?"
Wild could tell from Kilarhas's face expression that he did not like Professor Stein, and she agreed with him. Dr. Stein was the scum of the earth in Wild's opinion, and Igor was not any better.
She was surprised to learn that there were any good people in Zantaric, as she had never seen any the 13 years she had lived here. But if the healer was a friend of Kilarhas, Wild would allow her to take care of her chest wound.
"I agree," she said. "She can't be a bad person if she is a contact of yours. I only hope she won't betray me to Stein or Igor... In case she is one of his connections as well - would you please stay nearby? I feel safer with you around."
"Don't worry," Kilarhas said. "I have faith in Cora, but I will stay near." Kilarhas stood and grabbed his cloak. "You should wear this, just in case. We'll get some ice you can hold on your hand on the way to Cora's shop."
Wild nodded when Kilarhas said he had faith in Cora. She had never met the woman, and thus she was quite certain that Professor Stein didn't know her. If he did, she was one of the connections he never spoke of in front of the kids.
"Thank you," she said and put on the cloak Kilarhas offered her. "But what will you wear? I don't want you to feel cold either...."
She whimpered a bit from the pain when she managed to entwine one of her broken fingers into the cloak while putting it on, but after a bit of struggle she managed to free herself without ruining Kilarhas' cloak.
"I am ready," she said and looked up at him with a sheepish smile. "Lead the way please."
"I have a second cloak," Kilarhas said when Wild inquired about what he would wear. "It's not as thick as that one is, but it's not that far a walk to Cora's shop."
Kilarhas pulled another, thinner, cloak from his pack and put it on before slinging his pack over his shoulders. He waited for Wild and then went downstairs to the bar, where he asked for some ice. The bartender nodded and then went into the back, returning a minute later with a few pieces of ice wrapped in a cloth.
Kilarhas handed the ice to Wild. "Just hold that on your hand," he said. "It will make the swelling go down and it will feel better besides."
Wild was glad to know that Kilarhas had a second cloak too, even if he had been galant to leave her with the thickest one. "You are kind to borrow me your clothes," she said softly. "I wish I could repay you one day, when I have a proper job of my own and can earn my keep."
Following Kilarhas down to the bar, she gratefully accepted the cloth with the ice and placed it on her fingers. It felt cold, but it was better than the ache she had felt since her fingers were injured.
"Thank you," she said softly to Kilarhas. "Perhaps there is some way to fasten the cloth to my hand so the ice won't fall out?"
As she stood there talking to Kilarhas, she all of a sudden noticed the fat man sitting in a half dark corner of the bar. The man was reading a newspaper and had seemingly not seen her yet, but she could recognize that fat frame and the hideous appearance anywhere. Her face paled, and she looked helplessly up at Kilarhas....
Kilarhas frowned when he saw Wild's fearful look, and he followed her gaze to the figure in the corner. He narrowed his eyes.
"Is that him?" Not waiting for an answer, he took Wild's hood and quickly pulled it over her face. Then he took her shoulder and led her towards the door. He hurried, but not enough to seem strange.
Out on the street Kilarhas started to walk faster. "Did he see you?" he asked Wild quietly as they hurried along.
Wild was glad Kilarhas was there with her when she spotted Master in the corner. Even after all these years, Master still had the same effect as always on her: making her freeze with fear and tremble like the withering leaf of a tree.
"Yes, that's him," she whispered, grateful that Kilharas pulled the hood over her face and led her outdoors. She followed him without any protests, not wanting to stay longer in Master's company than she had to.
She walked as fast as she could beside him, a worried look on her face when Kilarhas asked if Master had seen her. "I am not certain," she admitted honestly. "I think I saw a movement in his newspaper when I entered the room, but I didn't see him right away when I came in...."
(Hello, JackieCat. :3 Hope you don't mind a despicable little devil joining you. Morrighan said I could.)
'I' saw you! smirked the vile animosity, watching the elfin pair up-close while they unwittingly passed him by in their hasted attempt to leave without beeing noticed. Given his small stature and experience hunting for survival - or just for the heck of it - Igor knew enough to make himself easy to miss. He loved shadows more than broad daylight, was quicker than he would let on - and at the moment sporting a spare cloak not espesifically tailored to fit his miniscule body, he might pass for a child borrowing his father's clothes to appear more like his beloved ideal.
Also, the wicked little Hyoitean had found himself a vacant seat near a family travelling with children of their own, and to those who might look in his direction he could well appear a part of that picture, unless you caught a glimpse of his eyes staring unblinkingly at young Wild and her companion.
Sound the clink as the door closed behind them, Igor slithered across the floor, quietly; hoping that people, especially the innkeeper would resume paying him no attention, even when his grabby little hands made it for a piece of pork put onto somebody's plate on the bar desk. At least he would assume that the food was intended for somebody else, was it not always so? It didn't bother him, though. Stolen food tasted just as sweet, if not better than the kind you had to give up your coins for.
As he darted toward the door, his mouth disgustingly full of pork, Igor sought his Master's gaze for just a moment; wanting to signal how he was very much onto the elf-beast's tail - and he would not allow his best efforts be countered by some taller elf nor his weapons. Igor as not scared at all of Wild's apparent new protector. Wary, yes - indeed he was, but not scared.
Even so he chose wisely to avoid a direct confrontation so soon. Oh, how he longed to wring her dirty little neck, and demand his lockpicks being returned to him; before he'd let Master have her. But he kept himself under control, instead following the pair - waiting, waiting for the right moment; the perfect idea to present itself to his mind. If the stranger did not detach from Wild by choice, Igor would have to come up with some clever method of luring him away long enough that he could strike upon his mistrustful apprentice, and bring her back like he was supposed to.
(OOC: Welcome to the thread Silvertongue!)
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IC:"Let's get to the healer then, quickly," Kilarhas said. "Get you fixed up, and then get out of here."
As they rushed on, Kilarhas was glad he had grabbed his pack, he always kept it with him almost wherever he went, in case of a situation just like this one, where they could not go back to the inn.
After a few minutes of walking through the dark streets they came to the healers shop. Kilarhas knocked on the door and there was silence. The windows were dark, but then there was the sound of movement and Kilarhas saw a candle being lit. A moment later the peek hole on the door was opened, and a pair of dark eyes appeared. U[on seeing Kilarhas the woman stepped back and opened the door.
"What are you doing here?" the woman asked. She was wearing a nightgown and her long silver hair was pulled back in a braid down her back. "Quickly, get inside, before you're seen."
The woman ushered them inside before Kilarhas could speak, then she closed, bolted, and locked the door behind them, then she turned back to Kilarhas.
"So," she said. "Why are you and your friend here?"
"Wild had been injured, and she needs your help," Kilarhas said. "I have helped her with wounds on her hands and back, but she has told me she has a cut on her chest, and I thought you best help her with this one."
Cora nodded. "You are right." she looked to Wild. "Will you come with me?"
Kilarhas stepped forward. "Where are you going to go?" he asked.
"Into a back room, don't worry, Kilarhas, you can watch the door, and the room has no windows where your enemies can get in."
Kilarhas nodded and looked to Wild. "You'll be fine," he said.
(Welcome to the thread, Silvertongue. I am glad you could join us. As you know I play both Master and Wild, so I would have to kidnap myself without your Igor ^^ )
Master looked up from his newspaper as Wild and her male companion left the room. He knew he could not follow them without causing too much attention to himself. His large body was too slow to follow them if they should escape. But he smirked when he saw Igor in the room, slyly blending into the group as an addition to the travelling family. He gave Igor a discrete signal to follow the elfin pair as they left, trusting that his assistant would be able to bring back the little elf girl. She knew too much of his secrets for him to be willing to let her slip away. He had to make her his slave again, though she would be hard to control - or he would have to kill her.
"Follow them," he mouthed to Igor. "And when you find them, grab her and bring her back..."
Wild followed Kilarhas inside the healer's shop, hoping that Master did not follow her. She had not seen Igor, or she would have warned Kilarhas about him. She knew that Igor was not beyond using dirty tricks in a fight.
She looked shyly up at the strange woman in front of her when Kilarhas explained about her wounds. Luckily the woman seemed to understand the situation and was willing to help them. When Cora asked her to come, she nodded and stepped forward, ready to allow Cora lead her to the other room. It touched her that Kilarhas was protective of her.
"I will be fine," she assured him. "Please make sure Master does not follow us. I know he will try to catch me again if he can. If he doesn't come personally, he will probably send someone after us..."
Kilarhas nodded, and followed the two to the room, but when Cora and Wild stepped inside, closing the door behind them, Kilarhas stood outside the door, his back to it, in case anyone had followed them.
(...)
A few minutes later, Cora opened the door, smiling. "The wound is clean now, so there will be no more infection as long as you wash it properly, it should heal within a few weeks, though I'm not sure if ther'll be scarring," the woman was telling Wild, then she handed her a small bottle full of a blue liquid. "Use this once a day on it, it'll keep down the swelling and keep away infection."
Cora looked up at Kilarhas, smiling. "Don't worry, elf prince, she'll be fine."
Kilarhas nodded. "Good, I was just worried that the infection would be bad."
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(OOC: It's up to you, Morrighan, to decide weather or not the wound will be fine, Cora could have made a wrong diagnosis! After all, Wild is your char. ;))
(OOC: I am fine with the wound getting healed this time. Igor may be able to wound her again at a later point ;) )
Wild nodded when Cora adviced her to wash her wound properly, smiling when her wound was taken care of. Reaching out her hand she gently accepted the small bottle full of blue liquid. "Thank you," she said. "I will do as you say. How much to I owe for your help?"
She smiled and looked up at Kilarhas when he spoke of the infection being bad. "It probably would be if the kind lady had not taken so good care of me," she said. "But it doesn't hurt so bad now. I am sure I'll be fine..."
Little did she know that someone was lurking outside the building, keeping watch over their every move.
"You owe me nothing, dear," Cora said, patting the elf girl's arm. "I owe Kilarhas here for more than one thing, I'm happy to help a friend of his!"
"We'd better get going," Kilarhas said. "We should get out of Zantaric as fast as we can."
"Use the back door," Cora said, her voice now serious. "There's a horse stable not far from here, get horses there and ride out."
Kilarhas nodded. "Thank you," he said. "And I'm sorry for coming here, I believe we've put you in danger."
"Oh, don't worry," Cora smiled mischievously. "I can take care of myself." The older woman snapped her fingers and a spark appeared there briefly. "I'll be fine."
"Thank you again," Kilarhas said, then he turned to Wild. "We'd better get going."