<div align="center">Dasyra<br/><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 8pt;">(Day One)</span></div><br/>Dasyra grimaced when the stranger took shallow steps closer to her winged friend. Something went afoot here. Something changed, and it must have been because of something she had said. Dasyra struggled to understand this, and frowned. But it was far from anything close to menacing. Rather sad and confused, with her green eyes softening on the young woman and her lips parting just enough to form a thin line of air. Weight was put on both of her long legs and her right hand crossed her chest to rub absently along the fine hairs of her left arm, thinking. Imploring the gods as to what went wrong, what had put the stranger on an edge of caution. Ghin did a good job hiding it, underneath kind words and gentle body language, but you just couldn’t fool an elf; at least not Dasyra.<br/><br/>“No…” her words stumbled out, trying to fix this and keep up at the same time. “..no. I mean yes, but nothing like that.” Her fingers curled along the slender slope of her arm, putting a dull scratch to an itch just for something to do. “There are many colonels, actually. I am just a colonel of…well, I mean not<em> that </em>many colonels, but I believe more than normal.” She sighed, dancing her eyes between Ghin and Bako…realizing it must have been her rank, or maybe that she was personnel for the Estaris army that had rubbed awkwardness into everything. “It is complicated.” She surmised, feeling at a loss. “…Colonel of the elvin archery division, so although my responsibility is still large, the numbers of those I command are only a tenth or less of the grand picture.” She left out that she was an important figure for the grassland elves, and that a large part of her rank with responsibilities had to do with that.<br/><br/>She abandoned her arm and fixed some of her hair, brushing it out of her face. Her eyes still held the stranger’s with bewilderment. It was only common sense - if you were skittish around an officer you had something to hide. “When there are not national emergencies my race are commonly used as scouts. At the moment I have been relieved to do such, so I am not entirely<em> too </em>busy to see you to safer ground.”<br/><br/>However Dasyra was receiving the signals that Ghin would not permit this. The stranger was running from something larger than just a disappointed father and a responsibility of burden. Something believed ‘dangerous’, according to the words chosen. It opened doors for the officer to take advantage of, and the rights to demand more information for the sake of national safety. It was Dasyra’s duty, after all. The only problem was that large bird of a guardian, protectively looming over the young woman as if it wouldn’t tolerate any pushes or shoves.<br/><br/>Not that the elf desired to do so. She still believed this was all a misunderstanding. Whatever danger there was couldn’t be too great to risk turning them into enemies over the sake of questions. It was just a woman and a bird. Besides, Ghin had a peculiar personality that didn’t seem dangerous at all. Goodness appeared to be there, and Dasyra always gravitated towards that quality in people. She nodded her head, deciding to not turn this into a big deal. “Of course you do not have to follow my advice. Holly forest is a good place, as long as you stay clear of the Moloch forest. I won’t worry either, your feathered friend looks as though he can take on any common dangers you might face. And no need to worry yourself over Ralos, I will get him back as soon as he flies far enough to expel the spook in his bones.” She gave Ghin a small smile of closure, feeling as though this was the end. As soon as she got back to camp she would have to report this, but Dasyra felt pretty confident nothing was amiss that ought to concern the Estaris empire.<br/><br/><br/><div align="center">Serin<br/><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 8pt;">(Day One)</span></div><br/>Seeing Loras take his time mulling around the sweet and sour Serin had returned to his plate of breakfast. It was no bother to him that Loras couldn’t provide a direct yes or no, quickly. In the end it didn’t matter how well he could waddle through pros and cons, what mattered was how well he could follow directions. It was a demanding job, too, let alone curt and risky. So Serin busied himself with a half cut of borangu fruit, picking the seeds out of the tangy bite. However it quickly grew old, Loras’ questions that is. There were too many of them, too much digging, and too far stretching the why’s and how’s. A couple of times Serin glanced over at the man, until the action became so frequent that he just gave up picking at the fruit and resorted to staring directly. He pulled up a cloth napkin wiping his fingers and then laid it length wise next to his plate. Surely Loras did not expect Serin to answer all of these questions without even dedicating his sword yet? He couldn’t help but feel bewildered towards the guy with the sudden dump of tangled inquiries.<br/><br/>Ah, but things started to look brighter when Loras finally agreed to the job. Brighter for the sellsword, that is. Now Serin could half-heartedly believe Loras was asking those questions for his personal benefit alone, trying to talk his self through the ups and downs.<br/><br/>Serin nodded. “Yea, there’s a go-between.” He leaned slightly enough in the chair to slip his hand into a pocket and pulled out a tiny object. Then he tossed it in the air towards Loras. It was a silver ring with the deeply cut etchings of a simple shield. “There’s a tavern called<em>The Blind Nobleman </em>in Japivul, at the corner of Tall Tabby and Market Street. The owner’s name is Brawn. Discreetly show him the ring and he will relay communication.”<br/><br/>Pausing, he gave Loras time to inspect the object. Then quietly, “Why do I not just cut the head off the dragon?” He straightened his back along the support of the chair and sighed, with a narrowed gaze resting upon the tower. “Because she is<em>my</em>dragon, that’s why. I don’t necessarily want her slain, I want her maimed. But if she is to be slain you've got to be ready for it.” His eyes darted back to Loras and he rose up from the chair. “…and, they are not necessarily my guys. The Order of Onul was intended to serve Estaris providing a regiment of magic users to reinforce the military. When I need them, they obey. However the Guild quickly adopted Eularceos in its first age, turning the Benevolence Tower into a sanctuary for the religion. While the common folk of my empire are loyal patriots, when you mix magic and religion together people can easily become torn in their hearts between belief and king. The Order has their own religious knights now; a force of holy priests who spread the religion. However they are stepping outside of this mandated power and are taking advantages against me. In some ways they are oppressing my people. My hands are tied with laws, ordinances, passages of rights, oaths, regulations, and decrees. I cannot touch the Order of Onul without upsetting the Council or confusing the people. The steps I’ve got to take just to bring one of those bishops into court are daunting, and if my people see the crown fighting against their religion it divides them.”<br/><br/>He ran a hand through his medium length hair, pulling it all back before releasing the dishelmed strands. “I should have done this a long time ago.” Then he swept his arm in the air as if he were sweeping the pieces of a chess board onto the floor. “Besides, I have been led to believe they are now moving against me. I am suspicious of a few things… especially now that Estaris’ ring in Nor has gone missing.”<br/><br/>“Before anything, as your first task, you must travel to Nor and convince a rogue magician by the name of Darr to join you in these jobs. It will not be easy. For one thing, he has been warned never to set foot in Japivul again. Secondly, the bastard and I do not get along very well. Yet surprisingly enough, he is possibly the only person I permit you to reveal who you are working for<em> if needs be</em>; though I leave that to your own discretion. He just might as well try and kill you for the insult of speaking about his king in his presence. Do not try to approach him with money, either. Instead, promise him the opportunity to take part in something he has been longing for for a long time. He has an incredibly rich history with the Onul Order and desires to see it suffer.”<br/><br/><br/><div align="center">Darr<br/><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 8pt;">(Day Three)</span></div><br/>Rain had heavily settled upon Mendall during the very late hours of the night. Dampened cobblestone roads and wet buildings enhanced every color there was, still prisoners to the shadowed streets and dark alleyways. What little light there was coming from the moon, stars, candles, lanterns, and fire pits glowing through glass windows reflected off of every glossy surface magnetizing the hallow brilliance. This is why Darr found himself under the sturdy trusses of one of Mendall’s giant amphitheatres. Not just mingling between the giant slabs of stone, but beneath the giant framework itself in the catacombs of its skeleton. Someway, somehow, water from the city above found its way even here. The plitter-plop sounds of droplets echoed throughout the very dark tunnels and into the room where they all met out of ear and sight of public view.<br/><br/>Darr slowly walked into the center of the room, glowering. He noticed that Councilman Gulian had brought with him, this time, double the number of guards. It was unclear to Darr exactly why that was but he had his own theories, and they weren’t completely well thought of theories either. His tattered robe and padded clothing was a solid ash-gray, currently void of the archaic designs and patterns visible only when channeling magic, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t holding any in reserve.<br/><br/>Councilman Gulian appeared nervous, as was normal despite the extra care in caution. The aged man pulled his bronze robe tighter about his body and shivered from the musky air in the moldy room. “I need it back.” He said, with much urgency. “I’ve got to get it back.”<br/><br/>“It is not my problem.” answered Darr, shortly. “You should have thought about the consequences before you dipped your fingers into butter.”<br/><br/>Gulian gritted his teeth, frowning angrily. “You do not understand what has happened, stop being so insolent. I need you to find it and get it back for me.”<br/><br/>“I don’t think so, old man. This time, this job is not for me.” Darr swept his gaze over the six guards, and then turned his back to leave the premise.<br/><br/>But Gulian stepped forwards after him, desperate for his help. “Do not walk away from me Darr. You know that I own you. If you do not mind me I will reveal everything to<em>her</em>.”<br/><br/>Darr stopped in his tracks. His shoulders slumped and his hair fell forward as his face dipped to the dirty ground.<br/><br/>“Not only will she have you hanging from a noose, but she will never find it in her heart to forgive you. If I show her what I have there is never a chance in all of Isadoln that you will ever get to see her again. You’ve no choice…” and then almost apologetic, “…I’ve got no choice either. I’ve got to have that ring back or my career is over.”<br/><br/>But Darr was far from listening to Gulian’s repentant excuses. He was exhausted from the rueful ploys Gulian came up with that somehow always required his skill, and from having ‘that’ strung over his head if he refused. This time he narrowed his eyes, feeling the anger rise to a level he did not want to restrain anymore. With a sudden swing of his arm he flung a bright flash of liquid light towards Gulian, coiling it about his neck and knocking him down to the muddy ground. It only took four steps for Darr to hover over Gulian’s suffering body, the coiling magic suffocated his windpipe, and yet only three steps for the guards to unsheathe their swords. Before the nearest guard had his long weapon swinging into an arch for Darr’s back the magician’s tattered robe pulsed with the fragment of eerie designs, putting a blazing red fireball through the air from his other hand towards the threat. The ball of fire struck the guard in the vortex of his stomach sending him flying a few feet back and knocking him unconscious. “Stand back.” Darr warned the others. “Or I will instantly kill Councilman Gulian in order to put up with you guys.”<br/><br/>The other five guards stumbled to a halt, each one looking at the other trying to decide if they were going to heed or not. One thing was for certain, not a single guard wanted to charge in alone, so reluctantly they all gave the magician his space.<br/><br/>Darr turned his attention back on Gulian, who was writhing in the mud trying to fight for breath. His face was turning a deep red and his hands were clawing at the liquid light cutting into his throat, but each time his fingers came away with nothing but water on them. Darr grudgingly waved his hand over Gulian’s face, shifting the magic and lessoning the choking hold. The Councilman arched his body and wheezed in what breath he could muster through the merciful let-up, and staggered his eyes in focus upon Darr. Once seeing Gulian cohesive enough to think beyond panic, Darr gnarled at him cruelly, gripping his shirt and pushing his fist into his ribs. “I am beginning to believe I would rather live with that heartache then live under your foolishness. This is growing old, as are you, and the same for my patience. What makes you think you can continue threatening me like this?”<br/><br/>Gulian gurgled, with eyes bulging under pressure. “You..ggc..kill me, you won’t..cggn..see<em>them</em>again…either.”<br/><br/>Darr growled loudly, his voice echoing in the vaulted underground room, dismayed at the fool’s stubbornness. He pounded his fist into Gulian’s ribs making the man’s eyes tear up before letting go, and waved his other hand in the air to dismiss the magical chokehold. Gulian rolled over onto his side sucking lungfull after lungfull of moldy air into his chest, and Darr left. Without concern the magician brushed passed an armed guard, leaving them all behind.<br/><br/>Gulian’s coarse voice called out after him in-between a coughing spell. “Darr,..you..you going to find it for me?”<br/><br/>“I will keep my eyes open for it.”<br/><br/><div align="center"><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 8pt;">(Day Four)</span></div><br/>It was in the wee hours of the morning when Darr arrived home. He rented his house from an old couple who lived along a well-to-do street of Mendall, far away from him. He hardly ever spent any time in it, though. He kept it as a private recluse; however privacy did not imply safety. There were many in Isadoln who searched for him under various reasons, sometimes good and sometimes bad. If he made a habit of sticking to one spot there wouldn’t be much foolishness separating him from the thorn in his side, Gulian.<br/><br/>He was drunk. After the nightly meeting with one of Nor’s Council seat members it left him in a sour mood, and he sought booze and sex. After laying with a local whore he often frequented at the Brigade Inn, he decided he only had wit enough left to make it home and stay out of trouble until he slept it off.<br/><br/>It never crossed his mind why the door was increasingly difficult to shove open this time, perhaps which was because it was obstinate to begin with. Darr always had to put some weight into his shoulder to shove it free of the uneven frame. With his cloudy mind and a curse on his lip he really shoved into it this time, causing a ruckus before tripping over a chair and falling to the wooden slate floor. Regaining half of his sense he stared at the chair for a couple of seconds before suddenly realizing this was amiss. Someone had pushed that chair up against the knob to keep someone from getting in.<br/><br/>Alerted, Darr straggled to his feet with a quickly sweeping gaze of the one-roomed house. It took him no time to spot the face blinking down at him from the upstairs loft; a boy with red hair and green eyes. Darr didn’t recognize him, but that didn’t mean anything at all to the rogue magician. “Who are you, and what in Onul’s blessed ass are you doing in my place?!” Although drunk, Darr could still perform a couple of straight magical tricks, sometimes. The only available exits in the small house was a dirty glass window on the first floor and a beaten up door, to which Darr slammed it shut behind him. If there was going to be a fight he didn’t need an audience.<br/>