<div style="text-align: justify;"><strong>Outskirts of Ashburne - Heading home to Amberthorne</strong><br/><br/><div class="floatleft">(https://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/1/1c/Graham_Ellery_2.jpg)<div align="center"><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: georgia;"><strong>Graham Ellery</strong></span></div></div><div class="floatleft">(http://)</div>Graham had been in deep thought, never noticing the looks he got from Asher. It wasn't uncommon at all for the pensive lord to cause some concern in his bodyguard. His mood swung wildly from time to time, and he always seemed distracted by something. There was nothing anyone could really do about it. He had a lot on his mind, and none of it could be given to another to solve. It was his responsibility. With recent poor harvests, they were running low on food. The population was fond of the young Ellery lord, especially since he showed no sign of the insanity that had gripped his late father, but that fondness was not going to fill their bellies or those of their children. Lack of money, drought and famine. Oh, and winter was at their doorstep, if the former wasn't enough already.<br/><br/>The young lord was about to utter a sigh when he was interrupted by Asher suddenly stopping his advance. He turned his head to look where his bodyguard indicated, his gaze just quick enough to catch a glimpse of fabric, much like the roguish warrior had.<br/><strong>"Asher! Keep your cool! Those aren't brigands!"</strong> Graham's commands fell on deaf ears as Asher already rushed off with his comrade-in-arms, leaving his lord to grumble at not even getting a calm ride home that day. He turned to look at Grimsby, who seemed confused as to what to do. <strong>"Follow me, let's find out who these men are before we slit their throats. It'll keep their eyes off of Asher and Roland, if nothing else,"</strong> Graham proceeded to urge his horse further up the road.<br/><br/>This was his home. He knew it like the back of his hand. As such, he knew exactly where the woman they were pursuing was going to go to ground, and their hounds would lead them. The perpetually cautious person in him warned him that perhaps stabbing first, asking questions later, was the prudent approach, but enough blood was being spilled of late and he wasn't about to add to it before knowing what was going on. After all, for all they knew, the woman in flight was every bit as guilty as these men believed her to be. Of course, vigilantism would not be tolerated by house Ellery; ever.<br/><br/>As Abigail would continue her flight - following the instructions she had been given - it was only a matter of time before she would run face-first into a solid pair of hooves that bore their way into the ground in front of her. Perched in the saddle, and looking down at her, was Graham. Sharp features were pensive and intimidating as he narrowed his eyes at her. She was tired, terrified and looked a mess; at least as far as he could tell. Without lifting his chin, his eyes darted up to look at the men that came from the river bed, their hounds ready to latch onto the fleeing woman.<br/><br/><strong>"In the name of house Ellery! Halt!"</strong> the command was decisive and strong, a hand resting on the grip of a crossbow that hung from the side of his steed. Grimsby had already drawn his weapons and urged his mount forward a few more steps to form a more able barrier between the pursuers and their prey.<br/><br/>A hand moved to rest upon his lap as he moved forward in a condescending fashion once he got their attention. Orders were barked, and the hounds ceased their advance, instead stepping in place anxiously as they could barely contain their frenzied excitement. <strong>"Mind telling me what you think you are doing in Ashburne? Sheathe your weapons and let your leader speak. Fail to comply and I will deem this an act of vigilantism. I believe we all know what the penalty for taking law into your own hands is, don't we?"</strong> the question was obviously rhetorical. Graham was not the best combatant in the land, but he did not need to be, his words carried weight and his body language always oozed confidence. Usually, that was enough to intimidate cowards like they into passivity. He looked down his nose at them, displaying his superiority in name and property. The state of his house be damned, he was a lord of the realm and he would always be treated as such whenever his back was not turned to the skeptical.</div>