“Of course Druidess,” the voice replies and promptly the leather note is produced through the narrow crack. Rolling back the door you move aside to allow the six soldiers, 5 males and 1 female, to enter. The once who initially spoke bows respectfully to the druid and briefly to the two others present.<br/>“I apologize; I am the most senior of rank here. My name is Honourary Soldier Vitta,” he introduces himself. The ranked citizen of the Hill Fort has brown hair that covers most of his forehead and neck, and pale blue eyes. A wound of his right check, presumable the source of his promotion, tells the story of a Drow hand crossbow bolt. That side of his face seems paralyzed, possibly by poison. “Commander Castley was alerted about the storm wreck later than we would have liked. All the captains and the 10 regiments have formed a perimeter in case the Drow try and make for our beaches,” he explains.<br/>Turning to Aeryn he casts his eyes up her figure, nodding in approval. “Madam, we represent the greatest military power on this island, and would like to offer you a position within the Hill Fort as a medic. You will be safest there. Would you like to leave now, in two hours?” inquires formally, but efficiently, his tone slowing down as he turns back to Morgan. “Will you and your ally be accompanying us back as well Druidess?”