The women were led through the darkened city streets, one of the Imperials walking ahead, two flanking them behind, enclosing them in a protective shell it seemed. For all that they seemed unconcerned, their weapons stayed readied throughout. By the time the walls of the city were fading into the darkness of night, and the Imperial camp lay all around them, their guard had hardly relaxed. At some point though, they seemed to relax, though there seemed little difference in the camp to the women.<br/><br/>"Grell, put them with the others for now. The First Warrior will likely want them to attend him when he returns. I'll relieve you once I make report." The tone implied that there was no doubt he would return. "Torrag, kick Venn out of his bed and tell him there are wounded to attend to. After that, send someone to fetch food. I can smell stew simmering somewhere, maybe it's ready."<br/><br/>The two saluted, a clenched fist to chest, then the Imperials split up, leaving the women with the warrior that was presumably Grell. "This way." he said, gesturing past some wagons and towards a row of tents. He led them perhaps two score yards, stopping at a tent that seemed little different to those around it. Raising his fist he rapped on the wooden pole. After a few moments, the laces of the tent were undone from the inside, and one of the flaps, raised the head of a young woman peeking out. "Honour to serve." she said, placing her hand flat on her chest, and looking up at the warrior in front of her. Larissa would recognise her accent, from one of the border provinces, but still one of her subjects, or at least one of her countrywomen now.<br/><br/>"Honour met." he replied, giving the clenched fist salute. "You have some company. There's room enough for them here, quiaff?"<br/><br/>The girl nodded, turning to peer at the newcomers, then backed inside the tent, gesturing for them to join her.<br/><br/>"The apothecary will be along shortly." Grell said to the young woman, gesturing towards the newcomers. "And food after that."<br/><br/>She nodded again as the women entered the tent, lacing it up again behind them. The tent had a number of bedrolls laid out, though only two were occupied, and a small lantern sat on a wooden box near the centre of the tent, the wick turned down low. Both women were fairly young, perhaps in their early 20s, or slightly younger, wearing identical grey tunics, each with a braided cord around her left wrist.<br/><br/>"Is .. has the capital fallen?" asked the one still in her blankets, wiping sleep from her eyes. "Or did they catch you outside the walls somewhere?"<br/><br/>"I'm Yukiri." announced the one who had opened the tent. "That's Ahsell. We've been held here for the last few weeks, slaves ..."<br/><br/>"Isorla." interjected Ahsell. "Not slaves. At least, that's what they've said."<br/><br/>Yukiri shrugged. "As close to as makes no difference." The discussion had the sound of a topic that had been spoken off a number of times before. Yukiri turned to the newcomers again. "We haven't had any news in some time though. Who are you, and what can you tell us?"