Sitting up in their tiny, one bed, cupboard of a room, Anora lay hunched over on her side.  For the past hour as her companions got ready for the day ahead, she had been nursing her first ever hangover.  Like any hangover she was a mess, sweat poured off her face onto the soft fabric of the sheets beneath her while her head pounded as if it were a war drum being played on march to war.  She was a mess to say the least, she had avoided binge drinking like the plague in the past yet she still got more drunk than she has ever been before.  Her bed lay across the room from the door and her path from the night before was clear.  Her bow lay in the middle of the room, dropped as she was dragged across the room by her helping friend.  It was evident that she had tried to walk and grab it the night before, the table near the doorway was knocked on it's side and the rest of her stuff was strewn across the nearby floor with an arrow sitting in the shower.  But a familiar voice pierced the silence of her room, and made her headache that much worse.<br/><br/><br/>“<span style="font-style: italic">You know you should probably get up.</span>”  Ardur spoke in-between bites of bread he had somehow acquired.<br/><br/>A groan escaped her lips as her hand quickly shot to her head.  “<span style="font-style: italic">Oh gods above.</span>”  She spoke in a slightly slurred voice.  She was obviously still feeling the effects of the alcohol from the night before.  Her eyes danced underneath her eye lids before they slowly began to open, wincing as the light of the new day began to filter in.  “<span style="font-style: italic">How much did I drink last night?</span>”<br/><br/>“<span style="font-style: italic">A lot</span>.”  Ardur said as he chewed through another piece of bread.  “<span style="font-style: italic">Surprised you could stomach all that.</span>”<br/><br/>Anora grunted as she tried to sit up in the bed, slowly rising as her eyes remained squinted.  Her arm quickly shot to her chest and her eyes shot open before they shot back to a near closed state.<span style="font-style: italic">“I am still in armor?</span>”  She asked<br/><br/>“<span style="font-style: italic">Yeah</span>.” Ardur spoke as he swalloed the last of the bread.<br/><br/>“<span style="font-style: italic">I feel so”</span>Pausing as she reached her hand up to her head and groaned once more.  “<span style="font-style: italic">terrible.</span>”<br/><br/>Ardur laughed as he quickly rose from the chair where he was sitted as he walked over to the sink, located on the right side of the doorway halfway in-between it and where the bed was located.  Inside the sink was a metal bucket filled to the brim with water as cold as ice itself.  With his right hand, he grabbed a hold of the rim and lifted it up.  Slowly he brought it close to the bed side of Anora, before leaning over and placed it on the ground.  Ardur backtracked for a second before he found the chair in the middle of the room and sat back down.<br/><br/>“<span style="font-style: italic">How's yours side?</span>”  He asked.<br/><br/>Anora's hand quickly shot down to her side as a flood of pain forced it's way into her head.  She had never been hurt this bad.  Not knowing if she could not walk distances or not, she decided to lie.<span style="font-style: italic">“It hurts.</span>”  Pausing as she opened her eyes all the way this time.  “<span style="font-style: italic">But I will be fine.</span>”  She finished as her eyes slowly moved towards the water filled bucket on the floor.  She eyed it up for a second before she looked back towards Ardur, and let out a loud yawn as she spoke.<br/><br/>“<span style="font-style: italic">What's the water for</span>?”  She finished as she spread her arms out wide and stretched.<br/><br/>“<span style="font-style: italic">To wake you up of course.</span>”  He paused as he stood up, walked back towards the bed, and picked up the bucket of water.  “<span style="font-style: italic">If you dunk your head in it you will feel much better.  Trust me.</span>”<br/><br/>Anora waved her hands above her body, warding off the cold dunk for now.  “<span style="font-style: italic">I should be fine.</span>”  She threw her legs over the edge of the bed, allowing her feet to touch the floor beneath her, while her head found itself cradled in her arms.  Her hand quickly shot to her stomach as her head lurched forward a bit.  “<span style="font-style: italic">Oh god.</span>”  She blurted out seconds before her words were followed by a torrent of vomit.<br/><br/>“<span style="font-style: italic">Oh shit.</span>”  Ardur said as he threw the water out of the bucket, and placed it down in front of Anora.  He quickly sat down next to her, his right hand on her right shoulder and his left mirroring it.  “<span style="font-style: italic">If it wants up then let it out.</span>”  He said as he firmed his grip on her shoulder.<br/><br/>A knock on the door was quickly followed by Cyrus entering the room.  “<span style="font-style: italic">The rest are meeting downstairs, best for us-</span>” Pausing as he took in the view of Anora before an angered look fell across his face.  “<span style="font-style: italic">You fool!</span>”  He said as he pointed out Ardur.<br/><br/>“<span style="font-style: italic">What did I-</span>”  Ardur started.<br/><br/>“<span style="font-style: italic">You let her get drunk!</span>”  He spoke as he moved across the move in as few strides as possible.<span style="font-style: italic">“I must check her side, make sure nothing tore.</span>”  Placing a heavy hand on Ardur's shoulder.  “<span style="font-style: italic">You go downstairs and learn what our plans are, my granddaughter will come with you.</span>”<br/><br/>“<span style="font-style: italic">But I-</span>”  Ardur tried to protest.  He quickly realized the man was right and he stood up.  “<span style="font-style: italic">Anora, I will make sure there is some food ready for you.</span>”  Ardur spoke as he turned around and exited the room, forgetting to close the door on his way out.  Selen was quick to follow from her hiding place in the hallway downstairs.<br/><br/>Cyrus stood up and moved across the room and closed the door.  He swiftly found his way back to the bedside next to Anora.  “<span style="font-style: italic">Let me check on your stitches.</span>”<br/><br/>“<span style="font-style: italic">Why do you dislike Ardur, if I may ask.</span>”  She meakly spoke.   She carefully removed the armor from her side and lifted her shirt just enough to show her stitches.<br/><br/>“<span style="font-style: italic">He is reckless</span>.”  He bluntly responded.   His eyes carefully scanned the stitches and the area around it.<br/><br/>“<span style="font-style: italic">Yes he is.</span>”  She responded with a laugh.<br/><br/>“<span style="font-style: italic">He has no control over his potent magic.</span>”  He continued with a stern voice.  “<span style="font-style: italic">He responds to adversity by fanning the flames of contact.</span>”  He said as he shot his hand into the air, as if to add a dramatic flair.  “<span style="font-style: italic">He has much to learn and no will to learn, that is why I dislike him.</span>”<br/><br/>“<span style="font-style: italic">He is loyal.</span>”  Anora quipped.  “<span style="font-style: italic">Friendly to a fault, he is as fierce as they come to a fight.</span>”  She paused as a slight groan escaped her lips as Cyrus pressed down on the surgery site.<span style="font-style: italic">“Did I</span>-”  Pausing as she looked away from Cyrus.  “<span style="font-style: italic">Did they tear?</span>”<br/><br/>“<span style="font-style: italic">No.</span>”  Pausing as a small smirk spread across his face.  “<span style="font-style: italic">You are none the less a fool for putting yourself in that situation.</span>”  He said as he moved his body back and faced the door.  His hand firmly placed itself near the bottom of his beard and he began to stroke it.  “<span style="font-style: italic">I might have enough energy to finish the job now, if you so wish.</span>”  He said as he looked back towards Anora.<br/><br/>“<span style="font-style: italic">Can you cure me of this head ache, and nausea.</span>”  Anora weakly asked.  "<span style="font-style: italic">I can handle the pain in the side, but this bloody hangover is killing me</span>."<br/><br/>“<span style="font-style: italic">Ah yes, I know just the magic spell to cast.</span>”  Cyrus said as he shot up quickly.<br/><br/>“<span style="font-style: italic">You can cure this?</span>”  She said as a shocked expression fell upon her face.<br/><br/>“<span style="font-style: italic">Oh the cure to what hurts you,</span>”  The man spoke as he moved silently across the floor, each step taking a painful second.  “<span style="font-style: italic">Oh for that I have just the fix.</span>”<br/><br/>“<span style="font-style: italic">Well cure me.</span>”  She pleaded.  “<span style="font-style: italic">Don't be rude and show it to me!</span>”<br/><br/>“<span style="font-style: italic">Well I need one key ingredient to make this spell work.</span>”  Cyrus shot back in response.  His body stopped moving as it settled above the sink.  His hand shot out and grabbed hold of a cup that adorned a small cabinet located just above.  He moved the cup underneath the faucet of the sink, before he slowly turned the handle to let lose the torrent.  Slowly the water began to trickle out and fill the cup beneath it.<br/><br/>“<span style="font-style: italic">Water?</span>”  Anora asked as she lowered her shirt to cover the wound.  “<span style="font-style: italic">Water is the the key to this spell, yes?</span>”  Her voice did not hide her excitement.<br/><br/>“<span style="font-style: italic">Yes.</span>”  Cyrus said.  “<span style="font-style: italic">Yes water is key to this spell.</span>”  Cyrus said as his free hand stopped the water flow.<br/><br/>“<span style="font-style: italic">Well cast your fancy magic and make me be gone of this dreadful headache.</span>”  Anora said as she readied herself for the spell.<br/><br/>“<span style="font-style: italic">Drink this.</span>”  Cyrus responded in a chipper tone.  “<span style="font-style: italic">This is the spell.</span>”<br/><br/>“<span style="font-style: italic">What?</span>”  Anora responded as her eyebrows shot up.  “<span style="font-style: italic">A glass of water?</span>”<br/><br/>“<span style="font-style: italic">There is no magic that I know which can fix what ails you, I'm afraid.</span>”  Cyrus spoke as he handed her the cup of water.  “<span style="font-style: italic">I am sorry but you must suffer the consequences of your choices last night.</span>”  He said as a smile spread across his face.<br/><br/>A frown spread across her face as she heard his response.  A part of her fully expected that he would be able to get rid of this headache, and at the very least help settle the rumbling feeling in her stomach.  With a pained look she lifted the glass and took a sip, lowering it for just a second before her hand rushed it back and began to down the water at a fast rate.<br/><br/>“<span style="font-style: italic">Let's join the group downstairs.</span>”  Cyrus said as he moved towards the door.<br/><br/>“<span style="font-style: italic">I'll meet you down in a few.</span>”  Anora responded.  “<span style="font-style: italic">I need to ready myself for the day.</span>”  She finished as her eyes lingered on the shower in the corner.<br/><br/><span style="font-style: italic">“It probably works.</span>”  Cyrus said as he opened the door and took a step out.  “<span style="font-weight: bold">Probably as cold as mine was.</span>”  He said as he flashed a smile before he waved goodbye and closed the door.<br/><br/>Anora quickly undressed, turned on the shower and entered the cold stream.  She spent only a few moments under the cold water, and soon enough she was standing in front of a mirror fully dressed once more.  Her face was devoid of all her usual war paint, washed away by the torrent of water moments before.  She slowly walked back to the middle of the room and began to look through the piles of her stuff on the floor, locating a pair of identical brown jars that housed the war paint used on her face and her lips, and made her way back to the mirror and began to pain on her familiar stripes.<br/><br/><br/><br/>- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -<br/><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-weight: bold"><span style="text-decoration: underline">At the bar.</span></span></div><br/><br/><br/>“<span style="font-style: italic">Your grandfather is a jerk, you know that Selen?</span>”  Ardur spoke as he entered the lobby of the tavern.  He stopped moving as he could not locate Magnus and their group right away.   His head bobbed as he scanned over the establishment, before he located his group.  He moved to the bar, got the bartenders attention with a tap on the bar top.  “<span style="font-style: italic">Two plates of whatever breakfast special you have.</span>”  Ardur motioned for Selen.  “<span style="font-style: italic">You hungry?</span>”<br/><br/>“<span style="font-style: italic">No.</span>”  She responded shyly.<span style="font-style: italic">“One could say the same about you.</span>”  She spoke matter-of-fact.  "<span style="font-style: italic">Allowing your wounded friend to get drunk?</span>"<br/><br/>“<span style="font-style: italic">Whatever you say.</span>”  Ardur sarcastically responded.  He turned his attention back to the bartender and asked if he could bring the food to their table when it was ready.  “<span style="font-style: italic">Let us make our way to the group.</span>”<br/><br/>A nervous look fell over Selen's face at the mention of meeting everyone.  She had only met Magnus outside of Anora and Ardur, and the large female was imposing to say the least.  A disgusted look fell over her face as she eyed up the grog being drunk so early in the day.  Thedas even was scared as it climbed onto her back and just peaked over the top of her shoulder.<br/><br/>“<span style="font-style: italic">The monkey is cute.  What is his name?</span>”  Ardur spoke as he began to walk towards the group, but stopped when he noticed Selen was still standing still.  “<span style="font-style: italic">Are you coming?</span>”  He asked.<br/><br/>“<span style="font-style: italic">Thedas</span>.”  She responded with a small smile.  “<span style="font-style: italic">His name is Thedas, and I will in a moment.</span>”  She paused as she took a seat at the bar.  “<span style="font-style: italic">I will wait for my grandfather.</span>”  She responded.<br/><br/>“<span style="font-style: italic">Thedas is an unusual name for a pet, what made you choose it?</span>”  Ardur asked as he walked a step back towards Selen but stopped as he noticed a pained expression fall upon the young girls face.  “<span style="font-style: italic">Never mind, I'll see you when you come over.</span>”  He said, not wanting to poke the emotional bear buried deep within the girl.<br/><br/>Ardur walked over to the table and announced his presence with a loud, boastful voice with arms stretched out.  “<span style="font-style: italic">Good morning!  I hope you all slept well, what is our plan for the day?”</span>Ardur asked as he found an open seat and sat down.<br/><br/>- - - - - - - - - - - -<br/><br/>Cyrus was down not long after and noticed his granddaughter was sitting alone and away from the group.  He quickly walked to her side and placed his hand on her shoulder.  “<span style="font-style: italic">Why are you sitting alone?</span>”<br/><br/>“<span style="font-style: italic">Just observing our new group from a far.</span>”  She said with a soft smile.  “<span style="font-style: italic">Not your usual company grandfather.”</span>She said as her eyes fell on the large woman once again.  “Drinking so early, is she part beast or something?”<br/><br/>“<span style="font-style: italic">She is something.”</span>He joked.<span style="font-style: italic">“A beast she is not, however.</span>”  He sad as he gave her a strong tug on the shoulder.  “<span style="font-style: italic">Let us introduce ourselves.</span>”<br/><br/>The two quickly made their way to the table.  “<span style="font-style: italic">Hello.</span>”  Pausing as he allowed the groups attention to be  given to them.   “<span style="font-style: italic">I have met a few of you already, but my name is Cyrus and this is Selen.</span>”  He said as he motioned for Selen.  “<span style="font-style: italic">We would like to accompany you all on your journey and lend our healing skills if ever you need it.</span>”<br/><br/>- - - - - - - - - - - - - - -<br/><br/>A man that was sitting near their group had gotten out of his seat, and left the tavern without paying his tab.  He was tall, well built and without a single hair on his head or face.  The bartender shouted out the door, saying he'll add it to his tab when he returns during the night before complaining of his regulars and their habits.<br/><br/>The man walked down the street and into a nearby alleyway, coming face to face with Lason.<br/><br/><span style="font-style: italic">“So?”</span>Lason asked.<br/><span style="font-style: italic"><br/>"I have some information for you." </span>The man replied in a hoarse voice.<br/><br/><span style="font-style: italic">“Your wife and kids hope so."</span>Lason responded<br/><br/>The man looked at Lason as sweat began to drip off his forehead.  “<span style="font-style: italic">I know where they will head.</span>”