Ba-dum, ba-dum, ba-dum.

Onwards they rode, through tree and bracken, towards the fortress that hid in the shadows.

Vearon was satisfied to find that they ventured away from where the Gilded Lily was. He was definitely sure, as well, even as the fort was being mentioned and preparations being made, that the elves did not intend to head towards the fortress on the clifftop. Nay, they spoke of a place on flat ground, atop a small hill and surrounded by trees. A place that was falling to ruin, claimed with age and was living with enemies. Yes, the Gilded Lily fortress might be filled with enemies, should these people attack, but it was not in common knowledge. In fact it was rather hidden amongst the grey of the cliff itself, disguised against the rock. Neither had its people recently captured any man elf, for the only two males who dwelt there was Vaeron himself and a recent elf called Tarrimar.

But he was not old enough to be a father, nor was he this Elthas' father, who ran so lithely as the horses cantered. Nay, Tarrmiar was rather a man of more unique skills. Much more akin to the average member of the Gilded Lily, but male.

Therefore, with much confidence the mage, now employed by Elthas, charged alongside the elves through the wood, heading for a fight. Megladon beneath him easily kept up with the lithe steeds of the elves, and the fast legs of those who ran. Intriguingly they kept up with the running horses easily, each pace long enough to be half a stallion's stride and fast enough for their legs to be somewhat of a blur. Weapons in tow the company sped towards their target, the chorus of light feet and heavy hooves the beat of their march.

Slowly the fortress came into view, and the party began to slow down. A dull grey mound of rock and mortar rose from the depths of the trees. In a tight clearing it was surrounded by trees that grew within inches of its walls. The wall itself was clearly aged, with a few watchtowers standing like silent guards, but the roofs of two of them fallen away. Part of the wall near the main gate as well had crumbled, so that an eager horse could clear it. The gate itself was a rusted iron double set - closed for now but looking like it would not take long to barter with. It had a stoney path leading up it, heading to the lump of a keep behind, that was as much looking like a prison as it actually was. Its four square walls were ominous in size but sad in form, with thick ivy growing up one wall. Small figures of guards could be seen peeking out over the top and in the watchtowers themselves, sighing with boredom.

The party slowed, then quietened and turned off the path. With the horses silent and the fortress still plenty of tens of feet away they merged into the trees and became one with nature. With the fortress just in view they hid away, aware of the enemy but them not aware of the impending attack.

Vaeron breathed in slow and swiveled his head around to look at Elthas, avoiding the eyes of the other staring elves. They were hidden for now.

But just for now.