Northern Hospitality...

[Vroth]

((Closed to Aryr de Morte.))

The street rang with the racket of clashing blades, bestial growls and cracking wood, and Alexia felt more guilty then ever in her life.

The antsy sprite was zigzagging above the frozen muck of the street, her translucent wings keeping her safe from the minotaur skirmish below. Only she didn’t want to be safe. She wanted to help, wanted to redeem herself for ever suggesting that they should travel to Salvar again. But what could she do? Compared to the beasts below, she was nothing, an annoying fly that they could crush with a snap of their fingers. And yet she had to do something. Down below, in the cold mud, her friend, her companion, her protector was fighting against many. She was able to count four so far, all as gargantuan and scary as Vroth himself, all wielding clubs as large as small trees. They weren’t out to kill her comrade though. No, they were there to teach him a lesson and relay the message that he wasn’t welcome in the north anymore.

Alexia hoped it wouldn’t come to this. She believed that it wouldn’t come to this. On this belief she based her debate with Vroth, and on the wings of this belief they came to frozen north, hoping to have a word with the minotaur leaders. The wide-eyed fay was positive that if the tribal elders heard what really happened and how sorry Vroth was, they would annul the judgment. Little did she know just how stubborn the minotaurs were. Parricide was the greatest sin that a minotaur could commit and there seemed to be no debate about it. The circumstances didn’t matter, accidents didn’t count. So before they even set foot in Berevar, a squad of these bull-headed beasts intercepted them, and before long the anger in their eyes was expressed with more then just looks. The four minotaurs were determined to send Vroth back to wherever the hell he came from with more then just a harsh warning.

And thus chaos ensued.

Vroth stabbed his blade in the middle of the street. The blade’s size and girth would’ve made it look like a monument if only there were cobbles around it instead of the unceremonious black-and-white mixture of thawing snow and soggy soil. And though the invisible Battle Circle that formed around the greatsword seemed to have no effect on the minotaurs, the spectators that beheld this uncanny match-up dared not to enter the circle. It was better that way. There was no place for humans in the quarrels of the minotaurs.

The four came at him with unhinged swipes of their clubs, sometimes in pair, sometimes working on their own, grunting and snorting and expelling hatred through every pore of their bestial being. Even though they didn’t know Vroth, they knew what he did – it wasn’t every day that a murderer of his own father returned - and it was enough of a cause for their hatred. The solitary minotaur held his ground though. There was no chance to evade and block all of the attacks, but the hide of the minotaurs was almost as thick as their skulls. For every strike that connected with his bulky body, Vroth retaliated, punching with his fists, tackling his brethren and slamming them against the walls of the nearby houses. He sent one crashing through a row of wooden columns, bringing down an entire porch. He slammed his hoof against the chest of the other, launching him through a window and into a living room of an elderly pair. When the third one broke the club against his back, Vroth grabbed him by the neck and pummeled him into the mud until he knocked his lights out. But before he was done slamming his fists against the face of his attacker, the fourth member of the ‘welcoming committee’ was on top of him, behind him, lifting his battleaxe in fury.

“Please, somebody! Somebody help him!” Alexia shouted, descending to street level and buzzing through the crowd, screaming at those that gathered for the show. But it was to no avail. She was a barely noticeable fairy and minotaur business was minotaur business; getting tangled into it was like getting in a fight between two wolves fighting for the position of the alpha male. It was a harsh lesson for her in which she was forced to learn that people were people, professionals at minding their own business and turning their heads away from something disconcerting.

[Aryr de Morte]

A port city in Salvar
Coming on the long trip from Eulaea hadn't exactly been worth it. Aryr stepped off the boat into a cold and frozen city. The Royal Guard wasn't sure of the exact name and didn't exactly care. He knew where he wanted to go however. Knife's Edge, the capital of this frozen wasteland. Finding a way to get there wasn't hard. There were plenty of guides through to the capital but they were quite expensive. Aryr decided to buy what he hoped was an accurate map, for three gold pieces the drawing looked quite professional. Aryr was glad he brought his own horse along with him on the trip even though it had cost slightly more to do so. Regardless, it was cheaper than getting something to ride from the Salvarians. Everything in this port city was ridiculously overpriced. Aryr rode his steed to the east gate and was on his way to what he hoped was Knife's Edge.


After nine days of traveling...

Arriving in Knife's Edge was far more appealing than stepping off the boat into some shabby port city. This one at least looked the part of a real city, although there were some areas where severe living improvement was needed. The Eulaean decided to sell his horse rather than pay daily to tie it up. He could always buy another animal to ride, or he could walk. The dark haired man shoved his spear into the loops his shield had for it and slung the golden circle over his back and attached it to the proper holding straps. Aryr wasn't exactly dressed for the weather although he didn't mind the wind hitting the skin that was exposed. Although, his cheeks were still stinging from the harsh winds he encountered on the way to Knife's Edge through the large plains of snow. His trips to the mountain peaks of Eulaea had been colder.

Aryr had been traveling in the richer parts of the streets for about an hour. He was pretty lost, the city was larger than he had originally thought and the streets weren't marked well. After about another two hours of wandering he found his way back to the gate. Aryr had heard talk of the great minotaurs in the area called Berevar. They were nearly ten feet tall apparently, the Commander having never seen something so grand was interested. He headed out the gate by foot in the direction that he hoped was Berevar, the map had been pretty accurate but the gates were in the wrong place. It didn't matter, Aryr didn't have any real destination.

The paths were well beaten down and after about an hour of walking he saw huge footprints along the left side of the road.

Minotaur footprints..? We'll see, I hope they are.

In the distance there was a small village and barely into the entrance was a large circle, and in the middle... minotaurs? If they were, the creatures were mammoth in size, both height and proportions. Their strength was amazing. Aryr ran to get closer as one of the minotaurs, who the other four seemed to be ganging up on slammed his huge sword into the ground. The soldier watched intently and saw a small glint raise off his shoulder as the battle ensued. After the lone minotaur beat three of them into a pulp the fourth jumped on the brute's back. Aryr suddenly saw a small creature buzzing around excitedly and could barely make out the words it was screaming, "Please somebody, somebody help him!"

Aryr looked around to see if anyone else was going to help the disadvantaged minotaur, every one of the spectators seemed to slink away from the scene, making sure they wouldn't be caught in the retribution from any authorities that might show up.

That thing is huge...

In the most spontaneous act of his life, Aryr pulled his shield from around his back, unsheathed the spear and ran as fast as he could at the tangled couple. He took his spear, wound up as much as he could and stabbed it into the top minotaurs calf. It had barely punctured the thick hide but it was enough to get his attention. The beast twisted around as Aryr took his spear out, the creature swatted the soldier with the back of his hand and Aryr went flying, which direction he couldn't tell. He hoped it was enough to give the other enough time to get back on his feet.

[Vroth]

Consumed by the fury of the battle and the pain that throbbed across his body from all the bludgeoning he took so far, Vroth’s perception was limited to one of his brethren that he kept pinned to the ground. It wasn’t surprising then that the minotaur failed to acknowledge the approach of his fourth foe. That was the manner in which his simple, brutish mind worked. It focused on one thing at the time, and in an attempt to do that one thing right, others became temporarily irrelevant. Sometimes that approach turned out for the best. More often then not, though, it got him in even more trouble. So his fists kept hitting the bull head below, kept hitting it until his knuckles hurt and he beat the consciousness out of the minotaur. And by then he was in mortal danger.

Only when he heard a painful bellow behind his back, Vroth tore both his meaty hands and his attention away from the minotaur he pounded into the mud. Behind his back, a single human seemed to gather enough courage to offer help, attacking the superior opponent with his spear. Unfortunately, despite all his effort, he wound up the way most humans wind up when they stand toe-to-toe with a minotaur. A backhanded swipe made him airborne, sending him, his lithe spear and his shield sailing into the rubble that used to be a porch until a couple of minutes ago. Alexia, whose pale little face got energized the moment she saw one of the humans actually answered her plea, winced at the impact of the man’s body against the debris and darted towards the fallen human.

By then, Vroth was on the move once again. Despite being as thick-headed as an average barbarian, the minotaur didn’t need a formal invitation to seize the opportunity. He charged like a one-beast stampede, getting below the raised axe and slamming his shoulder into his opponent’s plexus. This sent both minotaurs onto the ground, but this time Vroth’s foe wasn’t so easy to take out. Utilizing his knee in the exact moment they struck the ground, the dark-furred beast threw Vroth over his head, making him completely pulverize a crummy looking water trough. Both minotaurs were back to their hoofs in a matter of seconds though, hunched like wrestlers and snorting through their snouts, their rough furs almost invisible under the grime. They moved in on each other in an unhinged, uncalculated manner again. There was no finesse in their battling, no fancy evasions and speedy footwork. They collided like two landmasses, and once all the quaking was done, it was Vroth who remained on his two hoofs.

But his job wasn’t done. Regardless of how bestial they looked, there was a sense of honor that minotaurs upheld. And this intervention by a human, though lifesaving, went against both Vroth’s pride and honor. Breathing so heavily that it seemed like translucent white smoke exited his wide nostrils, Vroth released his sword from its muddy prison and approached the visibly dazed human. The titanic steel blade approached the fallen man’s form, but stopped at a reasonable, yet threatening distance.

“This none of your business!” the minotaur thundered in his guttural voice, his bestial head looming over the black-haired human. “Humans should not...”

“Oh, shut up, Vee!” Alexia interrupted, her tiny voice making up for the lack of volume with a high pitch that seemed to cut through the silence of the aftermath and the murmurs of the disbanding crowd. The fairy was now above the man’s head, hovering between the edge of the massive blade and the unlikely human that came to Vroth’s aid. “That bastard would’ve cleaved you in half if he didn’t intervene. You should be thanking him, you heap of fur! Now, help him up!”

Vroth shook his horned head and snorted in contempt, but the green-haired fay was adamant, keeping her tiny hands on even tinnier hips. Ultimately, the minotaur had to give up on the retribution that his pride demanded. The sword was pulled back, then returned to the sheathe on his back, but there was no helping hand offered. “Alex help him up is she wants. Vroth go have a drink.” And with that said, the bulky, mud-covered minotaur stomped his way towards the nearby tavern.

“Oy, oy! Never on a green branch with that big lummox,” Alexia said in her angelic voice, her wings fluttering and her head shaking before she turned towards the stranger. “I have to apologize for him. Vee isn’t the most cultivated man... well, person you’ll ever meet. I can assure you he’s grateful on the inside. Like, very very deep inside,” the sprite spoke, allowing a smile and giggle before she continued. “Come on, it would be better if we got inside too. I’ll make him buy you a drink.”

[Aryr de Morte]

Crashing against the remains of what had been a porch didn't exactly feel good when it was from a minotaur making one fly into the heap. After slamming into the rubble, Aryr could barely see straight, he could however see just well enough to make out the lone minotaur collide with the one Aryr had stabbed and been so easily brushed away by. After a short while Aryr saw one fall to the ground, pick up the large sword that was apparently his and make his way to where Aryr was sitting in pain. The giant of a creature stuck the sword so close to Aryr's face that he could feel the sensation go up and down his nose of impending danger.

I dishonored him by saving his life..? I don't see the problem with that... such...

The handsome soldier closed his eyes, ready to accept his fate which would at least be by the sword. After accepting his death, the fairy came zooming in, screaming in a screechy voice for the minotaur, who she called Vee, to stop it and thank Aryr. She seemed so excited from the simple fact that Aryr, a human, had stood up for her minotaur companion. Suddenly, the huge sword wasn't obstructing the soldier's vision. The minotaur was indeed mammoth, standing far away they looked huge but up close this minotaur was even more commanding and bulky. Aryr could barely see the tiny fae buzzing around near the top of his head. The huge minotaur sheathed his sword and said something that Aryr could hardly make out, then turned around and walked into the nearest pub.

His name is... Vroth was it..?

After the minotaur had left, the tiny sprite came sweeping down, fluttering her wings in front of Aryr's face. Despite the annoyance it did help him snap back into reality some. Aryr looked around a bit at the faces of the crowd. They were muttering to each other; Disgusting. Aryr despised those who were weak and did not stand for the honorable and revered art of combat. Bringing glory to one's name through combat was the only way of life Aryr had known. It was all he would ever know until his father died and he was called to return to the Temple of Infinity. The small figure interrupted Aryr's thoughts.

"Are you all right?" Her wings fluttering lightly. She had an almost sweet tone that soothed the pain Aryr felt in his back from hitting the large pile of wood.

"Yes, I think so. Your friend's name is Vroth?" Aryr blinked stupidly, still partly in a daze.

"What?! You don't even want to know my name?" The small fairy pointed a tiny finger at Aryr, scolding him for his lack of manners.

"I'm sorry, may I hear your name?" Aryr asked, half chuckling while he said it.

"That's more like it! My name is Alexia Galeborn." The fairy did a spin in the air to show off her entire body and obvious spinning skill, "What's your name?"

"I'm Aryr de Morte the twenty-fifth." The soldier looked to his side on the ground, searching for his spear and shield, he slowly rose to his feet, brushing off his backside as he did so. He took a look at the tiny, but rather attractive fairy, "Pleased to meet you." Aryr gave an eloquent bow.

"Come with me, I'm making that furball buy you a drink!" The fairy buzzed around happily. Aryr picked up his spear and shield, properly sheathing them.

"That isn't really necessary, I'll just be--"

"No! You're coming with!" The fairy began to pull out her tiny dagger.

"All right, I'll come." Aryr followed the tiny, flying woman into the pub Vroth had walked into. It was a usual sight, plenty of people who were laughing and being loud, some were staring at Vroth. Aryr walked up to the minotaur and gave an eloquent bow.

"I am sorry I dishonored you. I will take my leave now, if you would have me do so." Aryr raised from his bow and looked into the minotaur's eyes waiting to be acknowledged.

[Vroth]

Vroth didn’t care that so many peering eyes wanted to make a sieve out of him. During his years of wandering, he found himself on the far end of so many looks, glares, whispers and rumors that he grew callous to them. It was always the same - some thought he was a bull-like monstrosity, others were simply uncomfortable with something so unfathomably different walking around – and he couldn’t really blame them. After all, he was a minotaur, and it was pretty damn hard not to stare at something that looked like a nine-foot underworld reject. He even found it rather comical the way the rather rotund waitresses approached him, taking his order from two tables away and delivering it on shaky legs, looking up at him as if she excepted he would devour her with his toothy maw. Instead she got a couple of gold pieces followed by a deep, rumbling laughter.

The humor of the moment was effaced, though, the moment Alexia returned, bringing the meddling human in tow. Vroth wanted to reach for his greatsword that rested next to the sturdy bench he was sitting on – since the message from outside obviously wasn’t received - but seeing that the human was so puny and rather rickety, the minotaur reckoned his glares and his fist were able to deal with the man. And they probably would’ve been if his fairy friend wasn’t involved in the entire ordeal. She swirled around the numerous customers, a miniature vision of sheer beauty that managed to turn quite a few heads herself, and descended on the surface of the Vroth’s table with one of her ‘looks’. This one was the I’d-kick-your-ass-if-I-weren’t-this-tiny look, and it was followed by the human’s apology.

Some more mellow people would’ve been moved with such courtesy, but Vroth wasn’t big on manners and ceremony. “I would,” the horned creature replied, sparing barely a glance before picking up an ale jug in an attempt to take a draught. But a pair of miniscule hands and wings prevented him in doing so. Alexia grabbed the bottom of his jug, but instead of pulling it in the opposite direction, she gave it a forceful shove, sending the contents all over the minotaur’s bearded face. Vroth shook his long face and snorted once again.

“No, you wouldn’t!” the fay shouted. Such a quarrel would’ve usually attracted the attention of other customers, but most diverted their eyes as soon as they saw Vroth’s agitated face. Not Alexia though. The resolved fairy landed on the minotaur’s snout, picking him up by the horns and speaking in a lower, more serious voice. “Now, listen to me, Vee. I know you like deal with everything on your own. But if Aryr didn’t intervene back there, you’d have a canoe right between your horns. So stop sulking and buy him a drink. I’ll get angry with you if you don’t.”

The sprite was too close for Vroth’s eyes to see her clearly, but the tone of her voice rang clear enough for him to realize that she would get angry if he refused to comply. And when Alexia was angry, then she sulked and pouted and brooded and he didn’t like that Alexia. She looked too much like all the other people when that happened. The hazel eyes of the minotaur left the scantly clad figure of the fairy and looked at the spear-wielding human. Vroth didn’t want to owe anybody anything, especially not if they were humans that thought they saved his life. But a tug on the horns reminded him that he didn’t have much of a choice.

“C-Can I get you a refill?” the waitress – who snuck closer to their table coyly – asked, hoping not to get smitten by the bulky minotaur. He didn’t seem to notice her at first, his eyes locked on the black ones of the young man until he finally shook his head once again, sending Alexia flying sideways. Her wings fluttered and saved her from hitting a wooden column.

“Aye,” Vroth’s voice thundered, but before the waitress managed to collect his money and turn tail, he added: “Bring two,”

“And a jigger of your finest wine, please!” the fairy threw in, flying back towards the table and gracefully taking a seat next to Vroth’s titanic fists. The serving wench didn’t waste any more time, more then happy to go fetch the order.

“Come, sit Aryr. Vee won’t pull that big old sword on you again, I promise,” Alexia twirped, beckoning the man closer. “So, now that we’re all cozy and friendly, what brings you to the frozen north? You from around here or just passing through like the two of us? Or maybe you are one of those adventurers? You don’t look like the type, but you never know nowadays.”

[Aryr de Morte]

Aryr half turned around to leave after the minotaur said it but his winged companion scolded Vroth for being so hasty and having the response Aryr had expected. He was more than willing to leave if the minotaur wanted, to be truthful. The small fight that ensued between the two ended up spilling ale onto the furry face of the minotaur and the green-haired and extremely combative fairy convincing Vroth to buy Aryr a drink.

I sure as hell could use one to lessen this back pain.

After the almost comedic conversation between the minotaur and the fairy, the Eulaean gladly took a seat as the smaller of the two requested. Aryr would rather cross the minotaur than his companion to be honest, she was a rather pushy little beauty. Besides, being with a minotaur would could threaten just about anyone into leaving him alone was not such a bad thing. The way the waitress scurried off to fetch their drinks didn't surprise Aryr either. Just about everyone in the entire establishment were afraid of Vroth's appearance alone, not to mention his apparent ferocity in battle and large weapon.

"I'm not really sure what I'm doing here in Salvar. I come from even further north than this continent. A place called Eulaea," Aryr wasn't sure why he was even sharing this with complete strangers, the fairy seemed nice enough and would most likely be interested, Vroth didn't seem like the type to care where Aryr was from or why he was here, "I command the House Morte Royal Guard. I'm afraid I don't wish to tell the whole story as it would take hours."

Aryr glanced around the pub and suddenly got a chill down his spine. There was something odd suddenly, no matter how hard the soldier tried he couldn't shake the feeling of impending confrontation. The waitress returned quickly with the wine and two ales, one obviously for the minotaur as the flagon was much larger than the other.

"Thank you." Aryr said cheerfully as to keep the waitress from feeling too uncomfortable. She left in a hurry, taking other orders with more enthusiasm than taking one from Vroth. Now that Aryr thought about it, many of these patrons had to have seen or heard the chaos outside of the minotaurs battling with eachother. If they didn't they were either deaf or blind, or both.

"Anyhow, I'm just a traveler mostly. I don't really know where I'm going," Aryr glanced around again, still feeling uneasy about an unidentified force, "What about you two? Any specific reason you're here?"

Aryr shuddered, feeling another chill down his spine, this one more intense.

[Vroth]

“Berevar north of here, not some Ululea,” Vroth said in a definite tone, as if it was the truth and nothing except it could be the truth. It was the minotaur’s own way of saying that the human was full of cow dung. “Nothing more north then Berevar. Vroth knows. He was there,” he added, picking up his flagon and pouring half of its contents down his throat. His clear eyes were relentless, peering stoically into the blackness of Aryr’s and waiting for a reaction. A part of Vroth – the primal part that was still in sync with his brutish looks – wished for the human to make an issue out of it. He didn’t like this human and all he needed was a reason to deem him a foe. Alexia prevented it from ever getting that far.

“Maybe it’s not directly north from here, Vee,” the fairy spoke, holding the shot glass filled with wine in both of her hands. Given her constitution and the size of the jigger, she looked like she was holding a glass bucket and trying to drink from it. “I mean, do you know what’s west of Berevar? Or east?” she added, this time her tone aiming to reconcile the two instead of coercing the reason into the minotaur. Vroth didn’t look like somebody who heard her question, and if he heard it, he did a good job at ignoring it. Instead he took another sip of his ale before proceeding to comb the mud out of several tufts of fur that covered his arms. Alexia knew he heard what she said though. Silence was one of the two ways her companion usually dealt with the times he was inadequate to answer the questions. The other was much more physical and much less diplomatic.

Aryr’s question caught the fay in an attempt to take another delicate sip of wine from her glass. She wound up the way she usually did, dipping her nose in, spilling some over her chin and cursing the taverns that didn’t make vessels appropriate for her size in her own native tongue. It came out as high-pitched gibberish to all that didn’t understand fairy talk, keeping the fact that Alexia had quite a potty mouth concealed from most. Wiping her face with her forearm, she finally reverted to Tradespeak.

“Yeah, we’re pretty much travelers ourselves. Home is where you put your hat and all that, you know how it goes,” the sprite said. She wanted to keep it at that, but it wasn’t the first time that she wasn’t able to hold her tongue tucked behind her teeth. Besides, Aryr looked like a trusty fellow, not to mention quite a looker too. “But we’re not here by mere chance. We actually wanted to go to Berevar, to visit Vee’s tribe, so he could...”

A heavy fist struck the smooth surface of the table, resounding through the tavern and spilling the wine from the shot glass. Alexia’s reflexes saved her from getting completely drenched in wine, her wings taking her airborne. “None of his business!” Vroth insisted with a growl, his keen glance first aimed at the fairy and then at the black-haired human. By then the eyes of the entire tavern were on them once again, staring silently as if they were in a theatre.

Alexia had her hands on her hips again, ready to go another round of verbal battling with her uncouth companion, but she never got a chance. The sound of a myriad of heavy footsteps broke the silence, announcing the arrival of a platoon of guards. More then a dozen of them marched through the front doors, dressed up in heavy armor and bulky bear fur. Most of them held heavy crossbows in their hands, and once they located the minotaur, their brandished their weapons and formed a half-circle around Vroth and Aryr. By then, however, Alexia already found her way to the simple beetling chandelier above, overlooking the situation.

“You two!” one of the guards bawled, a seasoned man with a full gray beard and a longsword in his callous hands. Though he looked quite rundown, there was steel in his eyes and his callous hands held the sword steady and pointed at the minotaur who already had one of his own hands on the hilt of the greatsword. “We’re placing you under arrest for domestic disturbance, destruction of town property and endangerment of townsfolk!”

Vroth didn’t seem to hear any of the words spoken. His hand was as calm on his blade as his eyes were on the human foes. Only when they drifted upwards and towards Alexia’s hiding pace did a change occur. The tiny fay was mimicking him to drop the sword, to do what he was told, and as much as he didn’t want to do that, even his unintelligent mind understood that odds weren’t in his favor. Not even if Aryr helped again.

“Now, don’t be stupid. We have you pinned down. There’s no need for any more ruckus,” the captain of the guards spoke, but he knew that it was as good as talking to a wall. Minotaurs were rather rare in these areas, but he met enough to know that they never went down without a fight. To his surprise, however, this particular minotaur dropped him immense blade on the floor with a grunt.

“Good. Now, it would be wise if you did the same,” the gray-haired soldier added, looking towards Vroth’s unlikely companion.

[Aryr de Morte]

The minotaur was harsh and obviously didn't care for Aryr's company and so far Aryr didn't like the creature's company much. The feeling was mutual but Aryr had more brains and respect than to light a flame under Vroth and give him a reason to bash the Eulaean's brains on the wall. It seemed that the one thing Aryr didn't want to do was the exact thing Alexia did, she corrected him and speculated. The minotaur ignored the sprite which seemed like something Aryr would have done. The fairy looked satisfied like she knew Vroth had been beaten. Instead, the minotaur picked mud and grime out of his fur after taking another swig of his ale.

The fairy went on, mentioning what their goal was in Berevar but not before minotaur became obviously agitated and slammed the table, scaring Aryr nearly half to death and knocking over his ale at the same time. The soldier slowly nodded in the direction of Alexia to let her know that he needed nothing else. The minotaur told the smaller companion that it wasn't any of Aryr's business, and it wasn't. He hadn't asked their specific goals and didn't feel like being turned into mincemeat by the bulky warrior. He instead looked Vroth in the eyes, hopefully letting him know that Aryr didn't want to pry into his personal affairs while the fairy got ready to have another verbal showdown with Vroth.

"Sorry..." When the doors came open, Aryr's natural instinct was to grab at his spear and shield. He did just that, but upon seeing the number of guards, looked to the minotaur to see what he would do. Odds weren't in their favor but Aryr was smart. Smarter than your everyday guard at least. However the Berevian minotaur left his sword at ease after looking up to Alexia. Aryr then eased his hands and dropped his spear and shield on the floor after the older guard advised him to.

"Good, come here then, we'll bring you safetly to the jailhouse." The guards came forward, some sheathing their weapons, the crossbowmen kept their eyes trained on the minotaur while they put the largest manacles Aryr had ever seen around his wrists. Being bound wasn't exactly something Aryr was used to; in fact the only time he had ever been bound was by his training officer back home. Regardless, the cold steel chains clanged as a guard put them clumsily on his wrists.

The two were herded onto a large carriage that was quite uncomfortable but it suited Aryr's needs well enough, he could sit at least. The five guards were alert the entire time on the way to the jailhouse.


~*~

Vroth and Aryr barely fit in the cage that was assigned to them. Just his luck, being stuck in the brig with only a minotaur who disliked him as company. Just about nothing could have been worse. Regardless, Aryr wondered how they would get out of this mess. A two by two meter cell, things weren't looking so hot. Aryr decided he would leave Vroth alone and try to get some rest...

[Vroth]

Alexia followed the carriage at a safe distance, zooming from one rooftop to the next, hiding behind billowing chimneys and perched store signs like an assassin on a prowl. She was rather certain that the guards didn’t know of her involvement in the entire incident, but right now the fay didn’t want to take any chances. If she too got captured, chances were all three of them would wind up breaking big rocks into small rocks – or in her case small rocks into even smaller rocks – in some cold Salvar prison. That thought alone was enough to make the guilt gnaw at her little heart every time she looked down towards Vroth and Aryr, both imprisoned with shackles around their wrists. This entire mess started when she talked her minotaur friend into coming here, and now this marvelous idea was going downhill and causing quite a lot of collateral damage on the way down. At that moment, as she was ducking in one of the gutters and peeking down towards the rolling cage, the fairy wanted nothing more then to be back in Corone.

“Regrets are pointless,” she tried to both encourage and calm herself down. “Suck it up and get them boys out of that prison.” It was easier said then done. In fact, from what she could see, it looked like an impossible mission. The barracks in which Vroth and Aryr were taken looked impressive to her, with its unhewn walls, narrow, barred windows and a guard or two peeking out from every corner of the compound. The building itself was basically a square construction with a flat roof and a small courtyard in the middle, accessible only via the heavyset gates overlooked by a pair of sentries. It looked like the only way in and out of the barracks. Alexia didn’t buy that. There were always secret entrances to places such as this one. She decided to investigate.

***

The remainder of the day was quite uneventful for Vroth. He was shoved into a tiny cell with the human despite his attempts to explain that Aryr had little to do with his battle with his brethren. The guards paid little heed to his growling, repeating that it was up to the judge to decide who was guilty and who was not. With the human being rather silent all the time, opting to bide his time with resting and sleeping, the minotaur spent most of his time sitting on the floor of the cell and thinking how much he missed his fairy friend. Less then a year passed since he freed her from that vile Alerar hawker and already he got used to the lack of silence in her presence. So now that he was left with nothing but silence and the snoring of his ‘friend’, Vroth was both anxious and bored.

The night already conquered the outside world when the annoying silence was finally broken. Vroth was in the middle of sharpening one of his horns by scraping them against the bars of his cell when a familiar voice whispered from the tiny window above. “Hiya, you two. Having fun?” Alexia said, slipping past the bars and sitting on the sill of a book-sized window. The minotaur couldn’t see her at first; the light of the torches barely reached the cell that he and the human shared. But once he stood up and made a step closer to the window, a toothy smile appeared on his face.

“Alex! You...” he spoke, his tone tearing the silence effortlessly. The fairy was on the move before he could finish, darting towards him and shutting his mouth with her hands.

“Shhhh. You’ll alert everybody and then we’ll be in even more trouble,” she instructed him, letting go of his jaws when she was certain that he would remain silent. Once she was satisfied with the amount of silence, the sprite descended onto the cot and gestured both Vroth and Aryr closer, so they would be able to hear her whisper. “You have no idea how much time and flying it took me to find you two. Do you know how many windows this place has?! I’ll tell you, a lot, and I had to peek inside each and every one of them.”

“Alex can whine later. We need to get out,” Vroth said, his whisper not a whisper at all, making the fairy shush him again and shake her little head.

“I was getting to that. I just wanted you two to know through how much trouble I went because of you two,” Alexia added with a smile, looking up towards Aryr before she continued. “Now, here’s what I found out. There’s no way we can sneak out through the front door. There’s guards and torches and everything. But if you two can get to the roof of the west wing – or was it the north – well, anyways, if you get to the roof, you can jump off. There are only two guards up there, but I’m sure you two big boys can handle it.”

“Get out of the prison first,” Vroth said, this time managing to keep his voice down to a moderate rumble. “Metal bars strong, Vroth can’t bend them.”

“Then we’ll just have to unlock the doors. Did any of you two notice which guard has the keys?” the fay said, surprising even herself how calm and in charge she managed to stay. Her minotaur friend shook his horned head and snorted in response to her question, which left her with looking up towards Aryr’s black eyes, hoping he was more observant then Vee.

[Aryr de Morte]

Aryr awoke to the sound of a slight grunt from Vroth. There was nothing to speak of until a few moments after the Eulaean awoke, Alexia came zooming in. Vroth nearly rumbled the entire cell when he responded to the fairy's various comments and inquiries, it was making Aryr rather nervous that a guard could have easily heard him speaking.

What guard had the keys? Well shit, I wasn't paying that much attention. Think now, was it the old guy? No... he had orange hair I think, couldn't have been old. He was wearing black leather I think and had the ring in his hand, that must have been the guy...

"He was wearing a set of black leather armor and had orange hair, like a pumpkin." Aryr acted as though he knew exactly what the man looked like, he just hoped he was right so he didn't feel stupid later.

"I'll get the keys." Alexia zoomed off suddenly, leaving Aryr and Vroth to their cage. The tiny woman flew through the bars of the cage and stopped for a second, deciding which way to go and apparently decided to go right in a split second as a guard walked from the left.


~*~

"Orange hair like a pumpkin, huh?" Alexia muttered to herself, the prison was rather big and she had almost lost her way twice. The fay just hoped to remember the way back to Vroth and Aryr's cell. She had seen some guards but none stood out or had even close to orange hair. Most wore a drab, gray outfit, not something black like Aryr described to her.

He better be right! The fairy continued on her path. Suddenly, there he was! The guard right ahead of her had blazing orange hair and shiny, polished black armor. This would be easier than she thought too, the man was almost asleep in a chair, the key ring held loosely in his hand which was hanging down almost touching the floor. Alexia made sure to keep especially quiet and lightly fluttered her wings to decrease her altitude and retrieve the keys from the guard's limp hand. When she got near, the fairy gently grabbed the top of the key ring and pulled up, the guard stirred.

Oh no! Alexia quickly flew up to the ceiling right above the guard's head, he looked around and muttered something to himself before putting his head back down; I had better be sure he's asleep before I try that again. Alexia took out her small wand and mumbled a few words, a light powder fell around the guard's face. The man began snoring and became even more limp now, Alexia grabbed the rather heavy set of keys and began her flight back to her companion and the newly arrived soldier, Aryr.


~*~

Alexia had arrived just after Aryr had built up the courage to try and talk to the minotaur he was sharing the cage with and handed Aryr the keys furiously, "You had better not get caught again, you're lucky I'm here to help you out!"

"Thank you." The Eulaean smiled to himself as he took the keys and stood up, still feeling a slight throb from being back handed into a pile of wood by a minotaur. He reached around and tried a key in the lock, it clicked and the door swung open easily. Aryr walked out and looked both ways.

"Shall we get our weapons, Vroth?" He grinned, looking at the sheer size of his companion. They more than likely wouldn't face more than two guards at a time in these hallways, or they could...

"Let's let some of these other prisoners out so that we can create a distraction why don't we?"

[Vroth]

Though he too was currently considered a criminal, Vroth didn’t like the idea of letting other people out of their cells. In his simplified mind, they were all locked away for a reason (because they were bad people), and he was imprisoned just because he had a mere brawl with his brethren. Back in his village, when the spirits overtook them and they crossed horns or there was a score to be settled – usually over the females - everybody eventually wound up in the local tavern. Losers bought victors drinks and they worked together on fixing the damage on the morrow. But Salvar obviously wasn’t Berevar and this little town in the north expanse had its own set of rules and laws that were nothing like those back home.

There was no time for reminiscing and righteousness though. Alexia – as usual – disagreed with the minotaur, seeing the releasing of the prison populace as a perfect diversion. She liked the way this human thought. In fact, she simply liked the human. “If he wasn’t so big or if I wasn’t this tiny...” the fay allowed a mischievous thought that went with the smile she offered to Aryr as she floated beside him, waiting for him to unlock the doors of the adjacent cell. However, their plan failed on the very first step.

“What the hell are you folk doing?” the man on the other side of the bars asked, his eyes widening at the sight of the keyring in the hands of somebody who wasn’t a guard, widening further when he noticed a buzzing fairy and widening as much as they could once he saw the huge continent of fur and muscle with demonic horns. He was a scrawny fellow, pretty well dressed for somebody who looked like a regular knave, looking like somebody snatched him from a party he wasn’t invited to.

“Be silent. We’re setting you free.” Alexia tried to explain, but the man would have none of it.

“Oh no! No. Hell, no! They have nothing on me. If I run, they’ll lock me up and throw away the key!” the man insisted, his voice disquietingly loud. But the man with slick-black hair went even further, his hands latching on the iron bars and his face pushing against them as hard as it could, as if it would make his voice louder somehow. It was loud enough, for as long as it lasted. “GUARDS!!! THEY’RE ESCAPING!!! THEY...”

The sound of a heavy fist striking both the bars and the face between it put a stop to the bawl, Vroth breaking the man’s nose and sending him sprawling over the cell floor. But unfortunately for the escaping trio, the damage was done. The commotion could be heard almost instantly, the stomping of heavy feet and the metallic sound of brandished blades and clanking armor coming from the dimly lit hallways and growing stronger with each second. There didn’t seem to be many of them, half-a-dozen at most, but they were approaching fast, scurrying through the stone halls in search of the origin of this disturbance. And the three escapees had no other way out except straight through the oncoming ruckus. But when Aryr made a motion towards the only door that led out of the cell area, Vroth’s mighty hand barred his way.

“Wait! Behind me,” the minotaur spoke in an uncouth tone before he dropped to one knee like a runner waiting for the starting signal. And the signal was the screech of the opening doors. Because as soon as the first guard pushed the heavy doors inwards, Vroth broke into a furious dash. His hoofs slammed against the stone floor, losing some traction, but still gaining enough momentum for the huge beast to send itself plowing through the guards with its shoulder protruded forwards. One of the blades caught the minotaur on the shoulder, the other scratching his calf, another was deflected by his horns, but after his rush was done, five guards were knocked aside and the sixth was tackled against the wall.

“Quick. I think the armory is just around the corner,” Alexia spoke, darting like a miniature human projectile over the dazed soldiers and veering around the corner. The armory was behind the corner, and since the guard in charge of it joined the intervention party that Vroth bashed through, there was nothing to stop the minotaur and his human comrade from retrieving their weapons. Vee easily found his, the titanic Vindicator lying on the ground, too large for any of the cupboards or shelves. With his trusty blade back in his possession, Vroth stepped back out into the hallway and waited for Alexia to lead the way to the roof. The tiny fairy, however, couldn’t disregard the blood that trickled from his fur and onto the floor.

“Vee, you’re hurt!” she yelped, her tone filled with concern as she moved in close to inspect the wounds.

“Scratches. Get out of here first, then heal wounds,” Vroth spoke in the simple and effective way he always did. With no choice but to do exactly what her headstrong friend said, the fay waited for Aryr to rearm himself before she led the way towards the roof. Or at least in the direction that she hoped would lead to the roof.

[Aryr de Morte]

Aryr followed the fairy with Vroth close behind, the soldier's leather sandals clapped on the stone floor as they ran; trying to find the exit that led to the roof. The fairy led them down passage after passage, it seemed to go on for far longer than it should have. The guards that were chasing them seemed to be falling behind.

Good, now we don't have to worry about them being right up our asses.

The air changed from the dry, musty stench to a light, cold air. Aryr could feel it getting colder as they ran down the small hallway with cells on either side. The inmates looked around in confusion as the trio passed them, each companion getting larger in physical size as they ran past in a single file line. They were like a set of stairs with extremely drastic rise. Finally they came to a hallway with steps leading up, Alexia flew quickly up towards the door with Aryr following close behind. Vroth had a little more trouble because of his sheer size but made it up nonetheless.

Aryr opened the door at the top quickly and squinted as it swung wide, the dark was odd to his eyes, it took a few moments to adjust to an acceptable level. The fairy rushed out before his eyes adjusted and apparently surveyed the situation; she beckoned for the other two to come out into the open. Aryr walked out calmly, apparently though, Alexia hadn't surveyed as good as he thought she had if at all. Two sentries on top of the prison came up, each with a broadsword in hand. They were brave until they saw Vroth step out of the doorway, it amused Aryr how their expressions changed from pure confidence to overwhelming fear.

They'd be stupid to fight us, Vroth will crush them to pieces.

"H- Halt!" One of the guard's spoke, his feet shifting nervously on the pebble covered roof.

Aryr stood ready to kill, two guards would be no problem. He wouldn't have even needed Vroth but perhaps this way there could be avoided kills, "Lay down your weapons, we'll let you live if you let us go free without a fight." Vroth snorted behind him, seemingly anxious to remove the two from existence rather than try to reason with them. One of the guards dropped him weapon and stepped back. The other took only a moment before lunging at Aryr in attempt to be a hero, apparently. He ran at Aryr, it took him only moments to reach the soldier. By then, Aryr had drawn his shield with his spear still in it, he blocked the vertical slash that came at him, drawing his spear quickly after. Aryr took a sweep at the man's feet, the guard jumped though.

Shit.

Aryr wasted no more time, he ran at the man with his shield raised and crashed into him, knocking his opponent right off his feet, "No mercy, brave one." Aryr quickly stabbed the man in his heart coldly and quickly. The other guard had ran to the edge of the building and jumped off into a snow drift.

At least there was only some blood shed.

"We need to find a way off here without having to jump." Aryr looked about, there were two poles sticking up from the side of the building, the supporting poles for a ladder, Aryr figured, "There, let's go." However, looking at the ladder, the Eulaean doubted that his minotaur companion would go down it without breaking the ladder, "I should go first, you can get down however you like. I can't really help you here."

Aryr sheathed his spear and slung his shield around his back into the small holding strap. He turned and put his foot into the ladder's rungs one after another, descending slowly. Once he got to the bottom and stepped his feet onto the ground the soldier looked up at his significantly larger companion in anticipation.

[Vroth]

“Y-Y-You killed him...” Alexia couldn’t believe it. She hovered above the fallen prison guard, her tiny blue eyes wide as they witnessed life pouring out of the man’s chest. The fairy never saw a man die up until that day. Despite how Vroth looked like, he usually sent their enemies packing, but he sent them away alive. Few of them came out of a brawl with him with faces that even their mothers couldn’t love anymore, some others earned themselves a scar and a story, but they all survived. Aryr showed no mercy, just like his ruthless words stated. Even though the man had fallen and was pretty much defeated, the black-haired man stabbed him in the chest. It was something that Alexia couldn’t justify no matter how hard she tried. And suddenly the tiny fairy didn’t like their human acquaintance a whole lot.

“You just killed him,” she repeated, staring blankly at the fresh corpse, even though Aryr was already descending down the side of the building, well out of earshot of her tiny voice. Her reverie wasn’t interrupted even by the voices of the remaining sentries that were closing in on them, creating a tremendous racket throughout the entire prison. Only when Vroth spoke and his hand cupped around her tiny form did Alexia tear her away from the dead human.

“We must go,” the minotaur told her, his voice succeeding in being soft despite the fact that it rumbled like a distant thunder. His callous hand created a barricade between the sprite and the deceased guard, successfully shielding her from the gory scene. Her little head shook, her eyes staring into a pair of hazel orbs that looked down towards her, and ultimately she agreed with a nod.

As could be expected, the descent from the prison roof was considerably easier for the fairy then for her horned friend. While she was able to simply flap her translucent wings and fly down with the grace of a butterfly, Vroth took a slower route. He swung his legs over the edge, then let them pull the rest of him until only his hands held for the ledge. This took off more then eight feet from the distance between the rooftop and the snow below, enabling the minotaur to land without breaking his hoofs and knees. Up above and beyond the walls, the commotion was growing by the second, the alarming voices echoing through the halls, followed by the scurrying feet of their owners. It was only the matter of time before they tracked their escape to the roof. They needed to get away and fast.

“Quickly now. There’s a forest just outside the town. Maybe we can hide there for a while,” the diminutive nymph said to her companion, not even looking at Aryr anymore. For all she cared, he could stand right there and wait for the guards to throw him back into the cell and let him rot. Still, there was no time for chastising. The benighted streets awaited them, frigid and frozen, sleeping despite the noise coming from the prison. There was no moon in the sky, no stars, no street lamps lending them their illumination, just a large expanse of blackness with occasional shades of gray. Luckily for the group, Alexia’s eyes were sharp and her green hair made her an easily noticeable beacon as she led the way, flying almost too fast for even Vroth to follow with his huge strides that crushed the frozen mud.

By the time the prison guards gathered a squad and opened their main gates, the trio reached the safety of the evergreen trees. The forest was as dark was to be expected given the fact that they neither had light nor could afford it due to the pursuit that probably wouldn’t give up the chase that easily. The spiky branches of the pines were heavy with snow, the ground uneven, the breeze biting with its chill despite the fact that it barely had any power behind its whiffs. Vroth was snorting heavily through his snout, the run hastening his breathing significantly, but he was still far from tired, his hoofs plowing through the snow, his senses on full alert. Alexia was miserable, though, miserable and cold and thinking of the poor bastard that Aryr killed in cold blood. After a period of time spent in silence, the fairy couldn’t hold her tongue back any longer.

“How could you do it?” she asked, the frown on her small face unnoticeable in the darkness of the night. Her tone, cold and hostile, was enough to get the message across though. Landing on Vroth’s shoulder, Alexia made the minotaur stop and turn towards the merciless human before she continued. “How could you just kill that man? He... He was already down...” The strictness of her tone was breaking down in front of her sympathy, her compassion for the family that the man probably had. “You didn’t have to kill him! What if he has a family, a wife, a son? He was just doing his job.”

Vroth had nothing to add. He understood the concept of honor. He understood that there was honor to be found in dying on the line of duty. But he also understood the concept of life and death, and how the latter took everything from a person. Because of such power, he was taught that killing somebody should be used only as the last resort. That was why he didn’t attack his brethren with his sword. Taking a life was easy. Talking a life and justifying it was a completely different issue. Vroth knew, for one such life-taking was a cross that he would bear for the rest of his life.

[Aryr de Morte]

Running. I hate running.

Going through the branches in the dark night left scratches on Aryr's arms and face, but that was no matter. Wounds healed eventually, that was something Aryr could wait for. They were still running when the fairy asked him that wretched question.

Why did I kill him? He was a warrior. He died valiantly, why should it matter?

When the minotaur stopped Aryr came skidding to a halt, "Why did I kill him? Honor, quite simply," Aryr didn't have a better explanation, "he was a warrior, it was his job. Life and death all happen eventually." Aryr didn't know of a better way to describe what he felt at the query. It had nothing to do with hate, contempt or any such emotions. It was the fact that in battle, people lived and people died, it was the way of the world.

So far this new continent hadn't proved to be very appealing. In his first month he had already been jailed and now had a sprite yelling at him about killing men. It was the way that the Guardsman had learned to live. In Eulaea the battles were grand and the killing was crude but honorable. No man was asked why he did something, if what he did was a crime he was duly punished. Nobody cared to know why, most didn't even want to hear the answer and the answer they heard was never the correct one. Should one live or die? If one were to truly believe in the gods then why should such questions be asked? These weren't things to be pondered but arguments to make people quiet down.

"Do you believe in the gods?" Aryr looked at the fairy with a hard face, "I do, surely they willed it so. We do not choose when or how we die. Surely, you must have heard this belief in your travels."

What was that? Aryr's eyes darted about; I can't see a thing.

Just out of the corner of his eye he saw it, the glint of a steel arrowhead. Aryr tensed his muscles.

It was probably nothing.

Regardless of his attempts at reassuring himself, Aryr couldn't help but shake the feeling of someone near them. It was far too dark in the forest to actually see anything very well unless it stood out against the powdery snow. If there was anyone there, they were well camouflaged.


***

"Good, we finally have some work."

The rangers under the employment of Salvar hadn't seen much action lately, in fact, they hadn't seen any. There arrived too late at the scene of the minotaurs battling to be of any consequence and the jail guards had beat them to the capture. Not this time though. They had escaped from the jail and apparently everyone had an idea how.

A fairy.

Most of the prisoners talked when forced to make their bodies move in ways that they didn't know were possible, in fact, in Yeugad's experience anyone could be made to talk. The seasoned captain had captured minotaurs before, what worried him was any tricks this fairy had. He was sure his men would be able to handle it though. They were few, but more importantly, they were elite. All trained in the finest techniques by the finest trainers, these rangers were ready to do whatever was necessary to bring back a mark to their lord.


***

"Don't take out your weapons and we'll bring you to our lord peacefully!"

The shout came out of nowhere it seemed, suddenly from everyone direction rangers in a white garb stepped out, bows notched and ready to fire. A weathered man with a leathery face walked out more than the others, "We are the rangers of Salvar under the employment of his Lordship Dotnias. His Lordship wishes to speak with you about your, shall we say, redemption."

Aryr didn't know what the minotaur and fairy would do but he wasn't going to get shot by at least twenty arrows before he could draw his shield.

"I will come with you, my companions may decide for themselves."

[Vroth]

Aryr’s argument was faulty and wrong and irritating, and Alexia was about to give him a talking to and prove just how faulty it was. That dead man wasn’t a warrior and prison wasn’t a battlefield. He was a man that enforced the law, that had no personal grudge against the people he incarcerated. That was just doing his job, just like a farmer or a merchant or a barmaid. And Aryr killed him because he was doing his job, because he was trying to stop a pair of fugitives from evading the hand of the law. The fact that she was aiding and abetting a pair of accused suspects and that she was probably doing the wrong thing didn’t cross her single-track mind. The way the fairy saw it, murder was a much more gruesome crime then breaking out of prison, so she was going to chide Aryr for his actions. She probably would’ve done that as well – give a lengthy soliloquy until her face was red and her wings began to twinkle – if the voice from the darkness didn’t force her heart to leap into her throat, thus successfully silencing her.

Vroth was the first one to react to the ambush. His leathery hand was on the hilt of his massive sword before the ranger managed to complete his initial warning, his hazel eyes scrutinizing the surroundings in search for the speaker. He was soon able to find more then he bargained for. Clad in white furs that covered them from head to toe, a dozen archers positioned themselves around them, arrows knocked into their bows, eyes locked on the uncanny trio. This was the second time he was surrounded by folk with ranged weapons, and the minotaur liked it no more now then he did back in the tavern.

Just like back in the tavern, Alexia made a run for it, putting her wings in motion and spiraling towards one of the trees. But unlike the first time, her maneuver was noticed by one of the rangers, and before she managed to put some distance between herself and the camouflaged archers, a net was thrown in her direction. It was cold and sticky, almost like a spider web, and it effectively restrained her wings and forced her into plummeting. She landed into the snow with a yawp, and before she even managed to gather enough of her bearings to unsheathe her dagger and cut her way out of the net, a gloved hand yanked both the net and the catch out of the snow.

“Let her go!” Vroth bawled, brandishing his blade and making a move towards the ranger that held Alexia. But before he got enough momentum for a proper charge, an arrow struck his thigh, and when it was unable to stop him, another pierced his shoulder. The fay screamed in terror. The minotaur fell to one knee and let out a terrifying roar that reverberated through the forest and shook the snow off the branches. Rage was overtaking him, the fairy knew, and if that happened, there was only one thing that would stop him. Death.

“Vee! Vee, calm down. It’s alright, I’m not hurt,” she cooed, somehow managing to find a foothold amidst the strands of the net. “Put your sword away. They just want to talk. And I’m sure they’re going to let me out of this net if we both promise we won’t try to run.”

Vroth didn’t like negotiations. He wanted to kill them all for putting Alexia back in the same prison he broke her out off. But there was reason in the voice of his companion – as usual, she was the sweet voice of wisdom that defeated his uncouth bestiality. Nodding his horned head in clear compliance, the minotaur returned the blade to the sheathe on his back before standing up. He pulled out the arrow from his leg first, then out of his shoulder, growling through his teeth as he did so.

“See? Now it’s your turn to drop your weapons and show some love,” Alexia said, looking up towards the hard-faced man that held her in a net as if it was a sack. The man looked towards his commander first, waited for clarification and opened up the top of the net. The ranger squad didn’t drop their weapons though, keeping them pointed towards the trio. Landing on Vroth’s uninjured shoulder, the sprite spoke again. “Alright, we’ll go to this Lord Whatever with you.”

She wasn’t done though. Before they recommenced their trek through the woods, she turned her dainty face towards Aryr and spoke with a tinge of sarcasm. “You sure your gods don’t want you to try and fight these men? After all, there is more honor to be found in such a death then in yielding.” She was being mean and she knew it, but Alexia just couldn’t make peace with the fact that Aryr could be so inconsiderate towards something as a human life. She turned her pouting face before he even managed to reply.

***

They were marched through the forest, down invisible snowy trails that only ranger eyes could see and follow. There was no need for blindfolds; it would take an experienced tracker to even keep his bearings in the dead of night, let alone remember the path they followed. And since neither of the captured three fit the profile, rangers didn’t find it necessary to cover their eyes as they led them to their base of operations. When they started to trek over rockier terrain that started to rise and fall in a series of small hillocks, Alexia was pretty certain that were nearing their goal, and when they reached a rather conspicuous cave mouth, she was positive. But rangers were more cunning then that.

Instead of leading the way deeper into the cave, one of the rangers pulled out a stone from his pocket. Adorned with a rune, this item was a perfect fit to a hole in the wall that was visible only when the shinning rune illuminated it, and once it was set into the allotted position, it served as a key that opened up a passage in the ground. So instead of proceeding directly into the cave, the trio was escorted down the spiraling stairs that led into the bowels of the earth. At first, they could barely see farther then their own noses which made Vroth’s footing – or rather hoofing - rather wobbly, but soon enough the descent was done, leading them to a network of caves and corridors. They all looked the same to the minotaur, who started feeling like a mouse trapped in a maze. Luckily, they had more then enough guides to take them down the correct route.

[Aryr de Morte]

The cavern they were now being led through by the rangers was well lit, torches littered throughout the hall on either side. As they were led through the path, Aryr shifted his shoulders, feeling uncomfortable without his weapon upon his back. If they did anything to his weapons, the soldier would kill them all one way or another, they were sacred to him. He had killed countless men honorably with them, something not to be taken lightly. Thinking of that made Aryr angry, Alexia had questioned him like she had known him for years, it wasn't her right to question the actions of another. One took the risk of dying when guarding dangerous criminals, it was Aryr's fault for killing the man of course, but the man's fault for getting in a superior warrior's way. Whether or not they had a family had no bearing on living or dying.

Everyone dies.

Beyond thinking there wasn't much else Aryr could do and he hated the feeling. He'd much rather be exploring this new strange land or fighting. His family back home in Eulaea didn't mean nearly as much as living by the blade. His wife, his son, they were nothing when compared to the glory of House Morte. Every soldier felt the same way, there wasn't a clear way to explain the feeling to anyone. Eulaeans understood but these natives to Salvar wouldn't, and couldn't. There was nothing Aryr could possibly say to get his point across even if he wanted to, and he didn't want to either. That didn't help when the fairy asked him why he had killed the man. It had nothing to do with him not liking the fairy, more him not liking the question. The only person who had the right to ask him a question like that was his father, the High Priest, or his wife. Even then, he would have given the same answer and they would have accepted that for what it was. An answer.

All this thinking of Aryr's was drowned by the group's arrival at a large oak door. Even without it being open, the soldier could smell food, a lot of different smells blended together that gave him the sense that whoever was beyond it was very rich. Once of the younger rangers opened the door and the trio was led in, Aryr's senses had served him well. There was a large table with food that was totally untouched, one by one the rangers each took a seat. The older one closed the door behind them and beckoned the three of them to stand near the end of the room.

"I trust you brought my guests in fine condition?" A voice came from across the room, the area wasn't well lit. Aryr hated theatrics and this was some of them, completely unnecessary.

"Show yourself, there's no need for this mystery." Aryr said, almost angry at the deceit.

The man walked forward from the shadow of his small table where he sat alone and into a grand chair at the end of the large, rectangular table that seated the rangers and himself. He was a pale man, apparently he didn't get much sun. Although Salvar was cold and not many people were terribly tan. He had a like brown hair with a soft facial complexion. The look of a weak noble.

"Allow me to introduce myself, I am Count Agrad Dotnias." The man remained seated, smiling slightly.

"Fine, what do you want from us?" Aryr looked at Vroth and Alexia, hoping that it wasn't something terribly dangerous. Although he figured it would be if they were to gain any benefit from it.

"Good, I'll cut to the point then. I need you to do a job for me, that's all I ask, something that will require all of your cooperation. I've been having trouble on the political scene lately and I need someone, shall we say, taken care of. Surely you've heard of the man, Katyn Ian, no?" The man shifted slightly, uncomfortable at the mention of the man's name even though it was he who said it, "Anyhow, I want him to be dealt with, I don't care how you do it but if you do, you'll be free of this prison. Find out where he is yourself. Alak, lead my guests out!"

"Yes sir." A large man stood up and beckoned for them to follow.

"Oh and, failure to comply will mean your own demise, it's your choice." The man swatted the air in disgust.

[Vroth]

Vroth didn’t like any of it. He didn’t like this subterranean labyrinth of caves that smelled of damp earth and fungus and moldy stone. He didn’t like these dishonorable whelps that hid behind their bows and arrows, living underground like moles. He didn’t like the sissy, sickly-looking human that looked down on them even though he was at least three feet shorter then the minotaur. But above all, Vroth didn’t like this business that was forced upon them and he wasn’t afraid to put his dislike into words. Before they were ushered away and Count Dotnias returned to his shadowed chair, the minotaur spoke in his rumbling voice that seemed to pause every movement in the room.

“Salvar people weak,” he said as if it was an undisputable truth. “Can’t make their own kills.” The words seemed to capture the interest of every person present, the prissy lordling included. However, while in the eyes of the rangers there was mostly an intention to teach the minotaur just how wrong his foolish words were, there was nothing but poise in the ones of Agrad Dotnias. The unimpressive-looking human walked towards Vroth boldly, walked until he had to crane his neck in order to look at the pair of hazel eyes that loomed above, as foreboding as the pair of horns. A pack of rangers was already behind him, staring down their arrows and ready to perforate their horned foe again. But the only weapons that the Count pulled out were his words. And they stung more then arrows.

“Perhaps. But we did capture you. Wouldn’t that make the Berevar minotaurs even weaker?” The smarmy remark got an agitated snort as a response, and it probably would’ve been followed with a more physical addendum if Alexia didn’t intervene.

“Men and their predicaments. Mine is bigger, mine is stronger, mine is faster... Can’t we just play nice?” the fay spoke, positioning her tiny self between her bestial companion and the unctuous noble that seemed to fence with words better then Vroth could do with sword. She knew that there was no way for the minotaur to win in this situation. Agrad would mock him with words until Vee reached that point where there seemed to be fire spewing out of his eyes and smoke billowing out of his snout and ears. He would probably mow down a good number of them, Count included, but in the end the rangers were just too many. Diplomacy was the only way out of this mess.

“Just get the hell out of here and get the job done,” Lord Dotnias said, scowling at the chirpy fairy before he walked back towards his dinner. Alak, the tall, black-haired ranger that was still some good two feet shorter then Vroth, opened the door and gestured them to follow.

“Such a rude man. Asking us to do his dirty work and didn’t even offer us dinner,” Alexia mused, landing on the minotaur’s shoulder and hitching a ride out of the room and back into the tunnels. Their escort seemed to take them down a different route through the never-ending network of passages, but it could’ve been just unperceptive, forgetful mind playing tricks on her. Either way, after several minutes they were back topside, where the night grew just a tad more chilly then it was when they last left it. Still, regardless of the wind and the snow and the hollow blackness of the night, the green-haired sprite was relieved to be outside. As a fairy, she was a creature of the forest and sun and all things that resided above the earth. Even human-made houses made her claustrophobic if she stayed in them for too long. Luckily, their visit to the ranger’s headquarters was rather short-lived.

“So, now that your boss can’t hear us...” Alexia said, swirling around Alak and coming to about a foot away from his face. “Maybe you could tell us where could we find this... uhm, whatever his name was?” A hard face was looking back at her, callous and relentless, resilient to her simple charm.

“I could. But I won’t. Now get going and don’t return until the job is done,” the ranger said, his eyes keen enough to cut the fairy in half if only she was from a softer material then flesh and bone. With that said, he nodded towards his troops and led them back out into the forest. The last member of this patrol – a young lad that desperately tried to grow a beard – didn’t follow immediately.

“Follow the mountains north. Katyn has an estate there. The Count says he’s a bad man, so you shouldn’t feel sorry for eliminating him,” the blonde youth said, putting his hood up and pulling it almost all the way over his face before he too evanesced into the inky blackness.

“North. It’s even colder up north,” Alexia commented, exasperated as she sat back on Vroth’s shoulder. “I say to hell with them. We make a run south and don’t stop going until we reach Raiaera.” It wasn’t a very good plan, and she knew it. If they stuck to the roads and towns, the rangers probably wouldn’t be able to get them, but the city guard would be notified of a rather uncanny trio that broke out of the prison. A minotaur, a fairy and a man... They would stick out like three raisins on a cream-covered cake. Three mismatched raisins. On the flip side, none of them were skilled at tracking and navigating through the wilderness, not even Vroth, so they couldn’t trudge through the snowy landscape.

“No,” the minotaur spoke. “This their territory. Eyes watching us. We go north, take care of bad man Kate Nian.”

“Great!” the fay exclaimed with obviously fake enthusiasm. “More fighting. Are you sure you can go on, Vee? We should probably patch up your wounds.”

Vroth shook his horned head. “Vroth has fixing blood. All his brothers have fixing blood. Makes wounds heal.”

“Well, hopefully it will get you fixed by the time we reach this Katyn fellow. We should probably get going then. Anybody knows where exactly north is?”

[Aryr de Morte]

We were offered our "redemption" and we took it. Hastily at that. We had the desire to be free of our shackles, in the literal sense and the figurative sense. There was nothing else we could do, so we walked.

"See the sun there? It rises in the east and I saw it there on my way to Knife's Edge so we'll head this way," Aryr pointed to what he presumed was north, "and we'll walk until we find something."

That wasn't the best of plans either, but it would have to suffice. There was nothing else that they could do except walk and walk until something was found. It wouldn't be easy to trudge through the harsh weather, especially with so little clothing but at least the minotaur had fur and Alexia more than likely had a way to keep herself warm. Any discomfort from the Eulaean was nothing compared to the freedom they were hopefully to gain from doing this task set in front of them.

It was the early morning and the sun had yet to begin rising but Aryr knew the direction they needed to go, or he hoped he did. There wasn't anything that could be told for sure but he had come to Knife's Edge from the west and the sun came where he pointed. It would be good enough for now. Aryr becokoned for them to walk with him, he strode to what he hoped and thought was north, and he began thinking.

Their purpose was terrible, to kill a man for reasons he didn't know was horrifying to Aryr. He killed for glory and honor, not for some aristocrat who knew nothing of either. The rangers hadn't known it either, they would have fallen to Aryr's spear swiftly, not a single would have survived if he could have fought them one on one or two on one. That was neither here nor there, however. What did matter was them getting to this man, Katyn, and doing whatever was necessary to "take care of him." Aryr didn't like the prospect but it was something he'd have to live with and get over. Alexia didn't seem to object when her own life was on the line, no arguements about the wrongness of what they were doing.

Aryr looked toward the fairy, "See Alexia, this kind of killing is wrong. If it were my choice I wouldn't do it, but we must. Do you understand a little bit more now my views?" It probably wouldn't help, and he might even enrage the fairy but the soldier felt it was necessary to explain himself. Even though it wasn't, she had him thinking about it. He didn't feel guilty, but he felt an odd sensation that he owed it to her to explain why he did it.


~*~

After about three hours of trudging through the dunes of snow and trying to keep himself warm, Aryr finally saw something in the distance, it was far off and he could barely see it. It was the speck of a building, a slight orange glow given off.

Must be a lot of torches around that place for it to be glowing this far off.

"Do you both think that might be the place we're looking for? It looks kind of removed, maybe that's why he sent us instead of his rangers." Aryr glanced at Vroth and Alexia.

They kept marching, they would be there by midday.

[Vroth]

No, Alexia didn’t understand Aryr’s views a bit more. This was mostly because she wasn’t in a mood to do any understanding and contemplating on his views. It was irritating enough that he was right about one thing – that they were doing the wrong thing by going after Katyn – and she wasn’t about to grant him a total victory when it came to the whole killing issue. Besides, the situation was significantly different now, she kept repeating to herself. Unlike the innocent guard that had lost his life on the line of duty, Katyn was a ‘bad man’ according to one of the rangers. And on top of that, nobody said that they had to kill him. Count Dotinas, in all his pompous wisdom, never explicitly said that he wanted the man dead, just ‘taken care of’. There were several ways to interpret those words, she tried to convince herself, and some of them didn’t involve belligerency.

“I never said we should kill the man,” the sprite commented, still rather reserved when it came to talking to Aryr. Her pouty face was turned forward, her eyes scouring the gray landscape that became whiter with every minute that passed. The morning was creeping over them, pale and no warmer that the night that preceded it, unveiling the seemingly endless sea of the same, uninviting snow. “It’s not like we have to bring his head back or anything. We can just make him flee and tell Agrad that he’s dead. A lie is less of a sin then a murder.”

Vroth didn’t want to get into this debate. Alexia’s innocence was refreshing most of the time, a sparkly little star on the cloud-covered sky of life, but sometimes the fay intentionally closed her eyes to the obvious. Her words were fine and dandy, but in the real world things seldom took the pacifistic route. Negotiations were more often then not led with swords, not words. That’s why he carried a big one around. A Sword, not a word.

***

Aryr must’ve had quite a pair of eyes on him, because he noticed the estate almost fifteen minutes before the fairy-minotaur combo. The snow was blinding, cauterizing their eyes with its whiteness, and even Vroth who was raised in similar conditions had a hard time distinguishing what exactly awaited them somewhere on the horizon. Trekking through Salvarian wilderness was like walking through an odd version of a desert, where everything was inverted. Snow instead of sand, cold instead of heat, white instead of beige. Fortunately, the construction they noticed ahead wasn’t a mirage and when they approached it, it refused to evanesce. Instead it grew in coherence and after another couple of hours of trudging down the snowy plain they were able to distinguish what it was.

The main manor was the easiest to notice, the multi-wing edifice dominating the estate with its tall marble columns and arced windows and steep terracotta roofs. It seemed to be positioned on the very edge of a precipice, overlooking what looked like a moderately developed town. The only way to access it was through a rather spacious courtyard that was surrounded by a tall iron fence, protecting the manor, the stables and what looked like modest barracks from intruders. However, if there were any sentries in those barracks, they all seemed to take a break at the same time, because once the threesome of inauspicious assassins approached the estate, there was no activity to be seen. On top of that, the sturdy looking main gates were wide open, welcoming them like the arms of a benevolent host.

“It looks... deserted,” Alexia commented, flying some ten feet above Aryr and Vroth and straining her eyes in order to pick up more details from afar. “Maybe this Katyn found out we were coming and turned tail. Come on, let’s go check it out.”

“They may be hiding.” Vroth, for once, disagreed with the headlong approach, proposing a more subtle one. Though the minotaur didn’t know much about stealth and secrecy, experience told him that an animal that plays dead is oftentimes more dangerous then the one that growls at you. “We should wait for night.”

“Oh, please. How could they know we were coming? Only those rangers know about our mission and you haven’t seen any of them overtaking us on our way here, now did you?” the sprite reasoned with her horned friend. As usual, her words made too much sense for his simple brain to come up with a rebuttal. “If they are waiting for someone, we can always say that we’re just wanderers that got lost and stumbled on this place accidentally.”

Vroth still didn’t like it, despite the fact that everything Alexia said was on the money. It was the same sensation of foreboding dislike that he felt all the way back in the ranger’s headquarters, where they were recruited for this task. He couldn’t put a horn to it, he couldn’t say what it was, but there was definitely something fishy going on. Seeing the reluctance of her usually heedless companion, the sprite turned to Aryr for support.

“What do you think? Should we wait for nightfall or go on ahead?”

[Aryr de Morte]

It did seem suspicious that there was no one to greet them, usually these kind of people had guards left and right. There was no way to tell whether someone had been there already or not, the wind blew the trio's tracks clean the second they stepped. The gate being left to sway in the hard wind wasn't something that the soldier thought was a good sign either, but they would freeze waiting for nightfall, it would be better to go according to the soldier.

"We should probably go in, at least into the courtyard, to get some shelter from this wind." Aryr stepped into the gate, even within the small distance it was considerably less harsh. There was no one to be seen so far, it was starting to make Aryr's senses on edge, waiting for an ambush of some sort. A sense that something was out of place couldn't be shaken from the Eulaean man, the hair on the back of his neck was raised. Could just be the cold that's making me worry like this, damn. The thought came and passed quickly as Aryr noticed what seemed like a body near the wall adjacent to the gate. The dark-haired man walked to it, bending down to feel for a pulse.

Nothing.

The man was dead, now Aryr was worried. He got up quickly and drew his spear and shield, eyeing his surroundings quickly. He didn't pay attention to Vroth and Alexia but instead went to the closest buildings which appeared to be the barracks for the guards. The door was shut tight and the windows were impossible to see through, not something that Aryr liked the idea of. He had noticed a sword wound on the dead guard he had found, which implied that someone either hired or forced to kill them had done so. The man's breaths were quickening as he built up the courage to open the door, anything could await.

He stepped in front of the door, took three steps back and ran at it and kicked it down. Immediately the stench of blood hit his nose, almost making him gag. It was concentrated, like the corpses had been bled dry long ago and left to rot. As the Eulaean looked over the bunks that were in the warm building he saw corpses in almost each one, none were armed or even fully dressed. Aryr got closer to one on his left to examine the wounds. Their throats had been slit, "Some sort of assassination, I don't have a good feeling about this. Either Katyn is already dead of he has fled the manor, I don't think anything else is possible."

[Vroth]

((This is waaaaay overdue. Sorry for the long wait.))

The whole sensation about not liking what he saw increased at least threefold in strength once Aryr broke down the barracks door to reveal the gory scene. It wasn’t the carnage that tormented the minotaur, though; no, Vroth witnessed worse things up in the North, where beasts starved by harsh winters decimated entire villages from time to time. It was rather this sense of wrongness that bothered him, as if he was starting at some sort of a puzzle and he was too dumb to understand why something was awry. In this instance, it was the death of the people they were supposed to kill that was wrong, but Vroth had no idea why. It was supposed to be good news for the trio. They were off the hook; all they had to do was report back to the Count and everything would be sorted out. And yet, still he didn’t like it.

Alexia didn’t dwell so much on the corpses that stared into nothingness with glassy eyes, she couldn’t. The entire scene was so gut-wrenching for her that her healthy honey-colored skin grew pallid in an instance. The guard that Aryr killed several days ago was the first death she witnessed with her own two eyes. Now there were dozens of people with their throats gapping, their guts hanging out, their faces locked in terrifying grimaces. The sprite probably would’ve fainted if Vroth didn’t cup his monstrous hand around her and blocked her eyes from seeing more. The minotaur held the tiny fay until they exited the barracks, his callous hands unnaturally gentle, eventually perching her on his shoulder.

“What... what happened in there? Who... did that?” Alexia asked, the mental image of the scene still staring back at her in her mind’s eye. Her tiny body shivered, her wings fluttering in an almost spasmodic manner for a second or two as she wrapped her arms around her torso. She admired both Aryr and Vee for their serenity; Aryr even touched one of the stiffs.

“Doesn’t matter,” Vroth responded in his usual clipped manner. Only it did matter to her. That was the fairy’s greatest fault; she wore her little heart on her little sleeve and it got her hurt more often then not. “Aryr right. We go in house, find Kate Nian. If he is dead or gone, our job finished.”

When put like that, it didn’t sound half as bad. Once they left the barracks and stepped through the ajar front doors of the manor, they realized it wouldn’t be nearly that easy. First off, they had no idea what Katyn looked like or where his quarters are. This made the trio search the entire premises, and whoever left the bloody scene in the barracks did his (or hers) best to do the same in the manor. Maids, butlers, pages, all slaughtered on the lofty carpets of what was once an impressive home. Right now, however, there was a morbid air holding dominion over it, enhanced by the haunting draft that howled and blew snowflakes into the hallways. The house itself was still in a rather good condition, though, which probably meant that the massacre occurred no more then a week or two ago. However, this also meant that there was very little chance that they would find anything alive within the halls. There were plenty of valuables though; tapestries woven with silver and gold, lush carpets that felt almost too soft for Vroth’s hoofs, furniture made of polished wood that desperately required a good waxing, chandeliers made of crystals that would probably never glitter again in all their glory.

Somewhere on the third floor, in the largest bedroom that Alexia ever saw, they found somebody who might’ve been Katyn. Sprawled in a bed so fluffy and large that it seemed big enough for three minotaurs, the fat blob of a man was left to rot in his velvety pajamas with a horrified expression on his face and wide black smile made of crusted blood between his first and second chin. The windows were left wide open, the wind tousling the scarlet curtains wildly and blowing in another batch of white flakes. It also took out the pungent reek of decay that surely would’ve been emanated from the corpse by now.

“You think it’s him?” Alexia asked, keeping her eyes covered almost like a child, but peeking out just enough to see the less nauseating details. Vroth snorted in approval, nodding his head. The minotaur wanted to get out of there as soon as possible; the disconcerted sensation wouldn’t let go even now when they found their mark as dead as a doornail. Several seconds of scouring afterwards, their collective suspicion got a fitting epilogue.

“YOU THERE, INSIDE THE MANOR!!!” a voice from the outside boomed, coming in through the windows with another blast of wind that blew from the courtyard. “WE HAVE YOU SURROUNDED! COME OUT UNARMED!” And to top it all off with a verifying stamp on the wrongness of the whole deal: “WE KNOW WHAT YOU DID!”

((So, I figure Aryr can suggest that they should flee down the mountainside with the help of a rope or something. He’s smarter then Alexia and Vroth anyways, so such an idea would be more natural coming from him. :)))

[Aryr de Morte]

"They know what we did?" Aryr glanced around the current room, "We've been framed, damn it!" The Eulaean approached the assumed body of Katyn and observed it, the throat had clearly been slit in his sleep, the blood was everywhere. Nothing further was needed, they had to now make their exit. There was certain to be a back door but that would be obvious, they would have it covered. Manors like these always had nifty little escape routes, so they would have to go to the first floor and look for something.

After going down the flights of stairs and having Vroth nearly crush them, they had finally reached the first floor, if there was an exit out of the manor that ran underground, it would probably be in a public place as to keep snooping guards from finding it as they looked in the closests for a few extra gold pieces. It would be well hidden though, wherever it was. Aryr went along the stone wall, tearing down tapestries, knocking over statues and throwing furniture out of the way to try and find a secret exit. After the main hall had been thoroughly tossled only a few things remained in their original spots, Aryr walked over to a small couch on the opposite side of the room he was on. Now he was near the stairs they had hastefully ran down, as he heaved the plush sofa out of the way, it revealed a trap door. It's big enough fro Vroth too, good thing. Aryr thought as he bent over and heaved the large door up and watched it slam onto the ground, making small dust particles fly about.

He beckoned for Vroth and Alexia to go first, there were torches still burning in the damp tunnel. It must be magic, this tunnel doesn't look like it's been used in ages. Aryr thought as he stepped down some of the stairs and turned around only to close the trap door. The soldier followed Vroth and Alexia for what seemed like a mile or so and the damp, cold air didn't help his breathing or patience. At last they had come to a small set of wooden steps with a trap door on top of it. The Eulaean pushed the door open to no avail, it was simply too heavy, "There must be snow on it, Vroth, you'll have to open the door."

With that, the large minotaur grunted and went to heave the door open, after a couple of tries, getting it only partly open, he had finally burst it open and went up the stairs. Aryr followed, closing the door behind him. They were about knee deep in snow which was extremely uncomfortable on Aryr's nearly bare legs. The house was indeed about a mile away because the soldier could hardly see it. The trio had to escape this place and find somewhere to hide though, and the town below screamed to be the perfect canidate for now.

The only problem that was posed was getting down, Vroth wouldn't be able to climb down because of his hooves, they would have to find another way. The ridge got less steep the further it went from the trio, but that meant a long walk away from their destination and then the same walk back to it.

"Our choices are clear, either we can walk to where it's less steep and walk down, or we can climb. We need to choose, and quickly."