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y lord Daverris," says a voice from the dreamlike darkness, "time grows short and the Magistra's temper is notoriously...uneven. Blessed be her name and all who serve the Firebird's Glory." "Indeed," says Daverris. He frowns slightly. "Whether or not you come from such an accepted order--I myself doubt it, O traveler--the Magistra will be quite interested. The hour is late already, and we should be going. If you would care to venture the road with our protection?" The invitation clearly isn't meant to be declined. Tonar gives the odd cleric a "gigawatt" stare through slitted eyes, enough to prompt onlookers to wonder if their leader might suddenly burst into flame. Yet, the fighter remains motionless for several seconds before shouldering the scabboard with deliberate motions. Daverris seems disconcerted by the stare, and his eyes turn elsewhere. "Lead on," Tonar says simply. Caeric glances back over his shoulder, looking about his intended campsite. He shrugs slightly, looking over to Tonar and studying him for a short moment. "I'truth, it matters little enough to me whether I sleep here or with a larger group. In any case, if there is one among you who knows the tales and legends of this land, it would indeed be a service if I might pass some span of the night hearing the tales as they are told here." As Caeric draws close, Tonar mutters, "His blood will flow first if this be a trap." Caeric gathers his sleeping roll and horse, and follows.
Back: Caeric & Tonar's Prologue 3 Flame image provided by Clipart Castle.
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