<div class="floatright">(http://i.imgur.com/LrgvaJb.png)</div>Joli Engel took the supplies that Baron Greyfallow had provided to her.  She was too practical to leave them behind when he obviously had the wealth to spare.  Most interesting to her was the everburning torch, an item she'd seen growing up once or twice.  Since leaving the baron's estate, she had pulled the magical torch from her bags and let her hand pass through the illusionary flame no less than six times.  Such a thing was quite novel for her.  Growing up in an elven village, there was little placed on such items, as they tended towards either mage light or normal torches in the few places where such things were necessary.  But with their keen night sight, elves often eschewed such lighting in most areas.  As for the humans that she'd lived among over the last year, they'd been simple folk.  While the concept of magic and magical items was not unknown to them, it would have seemed almost frivolous to have such a thing when a solid torch of pitch and pine would serve just as easily and could be made by any child strong enough to swing a hatchet.<br/><br/>Still, the fact that it was given to her simply for answering the call was proof that they were serious and needed something to be done.  Joli walked, a journey that took her a few days on foot, from the Baron's manse to the ruins of the town of Aldrea.  She could afford to rent a horse perhaps, but likely not buy one, but if truth be told, she simply wasn't much of a rider.  The men had laughed as she had tried to learn the new skill upon entering the service of town guards and scouts.  She was, quite frankly, not overly good at it.  She remembered the day quite well, it had been a week since joining the scouts, and about twice that since joining the human town.  She'd had to pack away her wonderful moonsilk and leather outfit, as it attracted far too much attention.  Something she enjoyed, but was counter to her purpose of fitting in.  So instead she wore a simple outfit of loose fitting clothing.  But the trousers which reached just past her knee had a seam in the middle.  As she sat astride the great horse that she was attempting to ride, she couldn't help but feel how that seam pressed to her sensitive and hairless sex.  After a full day of learning how to ride, bouncing up and down upon it's back, riding the great mass of powerful muscle and heat that was a horse, and feeling that seem slip up and down her most sensitive spots, she had found bliss no less than four times.  She could understand the appeal in learning how to ride such a beast.  But when the day was over the stable master noted that her trousers were damp from her crotch to mid thigh, evidence of how much she'd enjoyed the lessons.  The stablemaster had misunderstood however and assumed that she'd wet herself in fear, not passion.  He promised to keep it a secret, saying that there were many who were afraid the first time they rode a horse and in their fear, had accidents.  True to his word, the story had not spread, but none the less, Joli had avoided riding again.  Thankfully horses were a valuable commodity, and if someone chose not to ride, there was little pressure for he or she to do so.<br/><br/>It was as she thought of that story as she looked upon the three horses milling about the ruins.  She approached the beasts and murmered soft words, similar to what she'd always heard the stable master do.  Immediately one of the three came to her and bumped into her, nuzzling it's great head against her.  She wished she'd had a sugar cube or apple to feed it, but did not.  Dried apples in her rations might be a treat for the beast, but she was uncertain if it would accept dried fruit, and besides did not wish to share her rations with the horse.  She stroked it's great head as it's two companions looked up, but continued to mill about.  These horses looked hungry, but also well cared for.  These were not wild horses, they were horses that had been ridden here and left.<br/><br/>Joli sighed.  She'd heard that a few days before she'd arrived at the Baron's manse, a group had come to answer the call.  Likely these three horses were theirs.  But the fact that they had been untended for several days spoke ill of the fate of that group.  Would she find that her fate was any better?  Certainly not even sign would be left that she had been here for she rode no horse.  In a childlike act of vandalism, she drew her dagger from her belt.  Patting the horse one last time she moved to a solid looking wall of a building.  Finding as pot where the wooden wall was protected by the still remaining overhang, she began carving with her dagger.<br/><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: impact;"><br/>Joli Engel was here</span><br/><br/>She thought about adding the date, but realized that it didn't matter.  This was all futility anyways.  She would succeede or she wouldn't.  If the latter held true, it did not matter if anyone knew her or her deeds, for she would be dead.<br/><br/>She sheathed the dagger and then found an out of the way corner and relieved herself.  Venturing into the mines with a full bladder or bottom wasn't the greatest idea.  Then finding some serviceable cloth among the ruins, and using some rain water found in a broken half barrel, she cleaned herself up, storing a few of the rags in her pouch for later, should she need them.  She poked about the ruins just a little bit till she found a hollow spot where a wall had collapsed.  The space was large enough for a child to crawl into perhaps, but little more.  It would suit her needs.<br/><br/>She squatted on the ground and pulled out all of her belongings.  Quite simply she couldn't carry all of this, she had to manage her weight and if she carried more than she could easily carry, she'd become fettered.  Such a thing was death to a freeblade like her.<br/><br/>She held out the everburning torch, then looked at the common but newish lantern she'd purchased.  It seemed a shame to leave it behind, but she had to wonder if she'd need such a thing with the magic torch.  Likewise the ten foot long pole, which she'd been carrying across her shoulders as she'd walked.  While such a thing had countless uses she had no doubt, she simply didn't think it would be worth carrying.  It was too large and would only be something she could carry in her hand.  Leaving her other hand to hold either a torch or a weapon.<br/><br/>She set about packing up the sturdy leather backpack with all of the rations and elven bread.  She grimaced at the last, only three days worth of elven bread, not enough.  Any man who ate nothing but elven bread and rations for a full week found their bodies bolstered and healthy.  But it would not spoil, and it was better than going hungry, so she was not going to complain for want of more of it.  The water and wineskins were heavy, but she took those anyways, glad that she'd found a creek earlier today to refill them.  The waterskins would be needed of course, but the wine could always be used to clean a wound if needed.  Though she had to admit her knowledge of first aid was very limited.  She added the silk rope in a tight skein to the fifty feet she already had.  She doubted that eighty feet would be needed, but it wasn't overly heavy and she'd rather have it than not.  Tying that to the bottom of her backpack, she retied her bedroll under the rope so that it hung below.<br/><br/>Her lantern, the pole, two of her oil flasks, she wrapped these up and put them in the hollow in the fallen wall.  She kept a single flask of the lamp oil, because it was good strong oil pressed from olives.  It burned clean and good, and in a pinch, could even be used as lube.  She thought of how she enjoyed the feel of a man behind her on rare occasion, his rod slick with...<br/><br/>She shook her head and focused her thoughts.  No, one flask of oil should be enough, no matter it's use.  She tied up her remaining belongings as best she could and then tested the straps on her backpack.  With a lift, a pull, and a twist, the leather straps could come free of the buckles.  If for some reason she was caught, she could unfasten it.  Of course if she simply needed, she could always just shrug it from her shoulders, but it was good to know her options.  She hefted the pack and settled its weight about her shoulders.  Moving a large rock in front of the hollow, she knew that anyone searching the ruins wouldn't have the hardest time finding her discarded gear, but hopefully it wouldn't be an issue.  Likewise if she needed, she could always return here, hopefully, and reclaim the lantern, bag, and pole.<br/><br/>She looked at the horses again, wondering if she should do something for them.  But they were free and could choose their own path.  Checking her scimitar in her sheath she drew the everburning torch and held it in her left hand and took one last deep breath of free clean air.  So Joli turned to the mine entrance, walking steadfast and resolute, but secretly wondering if she'd ever make it back out to the fresh air again.<br/>