Carol
Roryk Strongham 
Northwind

Roryk arrived at the dock the letter had told him to be at, and he looked around. His head was over most of the men around him, and his watchful eyes searched the crowd for signs of the Merchant's men. He had men posted around the perimeter searching for any signs of movement or trouble. 

A strange man bumped into him, and Roryk felt the man's hand enter the pocket where his money was located. Roryk grabbed the man by his throat and lifted him, frowning and slamming him down, before taking his own money pouch and the other man's and walking towards the ship he had noticed. He gave the signal for the men to aim at the ship just in case, and he approached with his hand on his blade.
Bobby
Ean
Northwind

Ean gets out of the ship, the handsomely charming elf wearing the usual slave clothing makes is apparent that he is newly taken. He would do whatever that fits, which is waiting. After all, he was a slave now and he didn't have an option to take the initiative unless he could get away with it. Which is... Not the case in a crowded area.
Carol
Roryk Strongham
Northwind

Roryk approached the elf, noting the stature and appearance of it. It appeared as if he wasn't used to being a slave, and it was painfully obvious. "Oi! I am Roryk Strongham, here on behalf of Leviticus Cortezial. He sends his regards, and he will meet you soon. Unfortunately he is predisposed at the moment, so he could not be here to meet you face to face. He regrets not being able to be here today." Roryk said, nodding at the other men as they walked away. He took the elf's lead that all slaves wore, and led the elf through the streets until the reached a small clearing without many people. 

A few men dropped from the rooftops, and Roryk grabbed a small parcel off of one of the men's backs. "Put this on boy." He said, tossing the elf the sack.
Bobby
Ean
Northwind

Ean follows Roryk to where he led him, listening what he says to its finest detail. When given clothes, he chooses the clothes that are mostly blue and white, anything he can do helped. He chose to complement his blue eyes, as his fashion sense was one of the few things he was allowed to have. "Thank you." *He would say as he replaces his usual slave attire with the new clothing. Mostly commoner stuff, though it was alright. He couldn't cast magic to conceal his ears, as he didn't know how others reacted but at least with some commoner clothing he could blend in.*
Carol
Roryk Strongham
Northwind

Roryk noticed the ears and grinned as he began walking, dropping the lead. "Be proud of what makes you different. Many do not have anything that sets them apart from anyone else." He said, reaching the horses he had prepared. 

"Do you know how to ride? If not you must ride with one of us, or learn on the way." Roryk said, riding the horse at the front of the group.
Bobby
Ean
Northwind

*Ean would still not speak but he nods, he knew a little about riding. He could not take maneuvers in a chase but he knew the basics of transportation thanks to his status as the son of a bourgeois, well known family of traders. Anyway, he took one of the horses, picked one with the color that resembles white.*

"Let's go." *He would say, waiting for Roryk to lead the way with the intention of following him.*
Carol
Roryk Strongham
Northwind

"So he speaks? Good." The man said, kicking off and leading his horse to a fast trot. "I feel as though if one man is going to tell another what to do, they should be acquainted. So, as I said, I am Roryk. Strongham is not my family name, but it is the name I chose. I have no family name. I am the son of two slaves, and was raised as a slave for many years. Levi is the man who pulled me out of slavery, so I owe him my life. And I run his group while he is away." Roryk said, the group arriving at a break in the forest, cleared trees all around and a few lot homes being built. There was the makings of a permanent settlement being built here, around 4 miles from Swinford. Roryk led the elf through the camp into the makeshift mess hall they had built. "Are you hungry or ready to begin your tests?" He asked.
Bobby
Ean
Northwind

*Ean would answer back* "Ean. Guess I will have to pick my surname sooner of later." *As he follows him as he leads the horse for a fast trot too. He always had a good photographic memory -mostly from the times when he studied magick where it is a golden skill to success- and listens to him with ease. He was interested to know a former slave, maybe there was hope for the Elves and the other slaves.*

*He would get to the camp with Roryk, and when asked the question he would answer it.* "I am not hungry, but I am definitely ready." *He would say, as eating could wait. He wasn't that hungry anyway, he ate in case he would need his strength. He didn't know what to expect after all. The dreaded Merchant could at least say they were friendly, but oh well. He knew it was the Merchant's knack of leaving people to learn by themselves or at least he thought so.*
Carol
Roryk Strongham 
Northwind

Roryk led the elf to the training grounds, and clearing with many men fighting, shooting arrows at targets, and rings where men sparred. Stands of swords, all of various makes and models, hung on racks all around the field, which was around 100 yards square. The two blacksmiths and the healer both stood ready to mend or treat any problem that could occur. Well made bows and arrows were also present. 

"Are you proficient in any style of weaponry or magic? If not then you will have to learn, though no one here knows any magic of intense power. The most anyone can do is light a match or create a few sparks. The healer knows a few spells of healing but it is nothing too powerful. He can mainly heal a few scratches and partially reattach fingers." Roryk said, greeting some of the men present.
Bobby
Ean
Northwind

"No, but I will try..." *Ean would say, still reluctant to show off his skills as a mage. However, it goes nothing. Ean makes a weird motion, one of his hand open in a grasping motion -as if he is grasping a sphere- near his mouth and his other hand -also doing the same motion- targeting a dummy.* "**Ignitos Sol Tonitrum.**" *He would chant as small sparks in the air get attracted to a specific point, which makes a small fireball slowly begin to gather.*

*He makes motions of pulling and pushing, seemingly redirecting the sparks to make it as big as a tennis ball, then a football, and then something twice its size. It is clear that he is a magical adept -based on how fluently and gracefully he makes the moves and chants the words, each of his moves having a perfect flow with the next- who knows magic well.*