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Gods be with you.

I hope they are.

You better...

Slowly the two marched back to Trollsbane, leaving Faladron on his own.
He just stared blankly to the ground, the snowstorming starting to increase in intensity around him, but he did not listen.
He did not hear, or feel the wind howling around him, nor the snow piling upon his coat, slowly but steadily.
His mind raced, how could he have been the only one?
Did nobody else care for his life, or did they all believe they were safe?
Did they not care at all? Why was he the only one to surrender?
What was different this time, there were threats in the past, others laughed at, why did fear creep into him when he read that parchment?
What made him write those lines "I will accept your rule"?
Could it be that he was the only coward upon this island,
or... the only one actually caring for his life?
He could not answer himself but one thing was for sure, he was on his own now.
The Prophetking had no use for him, as he was weak, he even thought him to be the traitor among them.
The moment he would be summoned and killed would not take long,
although his life was spared this time... and for now.
On the other hand, he could not hand himself in to the authorities.
He knew those walls wouldn't keep him out of that mans reach,
wouldn't offer protection, that's why he pleaded to be released earlier,
and luckily he suceded.

Slowly he sinks down to his knees, his whole body feeling numb, he supports himself, reaching into the snow with both hands then all of a sudden he screams as if in terror and anger then starts to sob, eventually cry, shaking his head not able to realize what he has done, what he has gotten himself into.

The tears nearly freeze to his cheeks now due to the cold, they hit the ground as little drops of ice, but who would take notice of that.
He still shook his head, sobbing lightly and could not hear the noise of someone fighting through the snow, heading his way, neither spot the figure slowly arising near him in the snowstorm... or was there noone at all and it was just snow and wind?

((Anyone wishing to find a broken man in the snow may participate ))

"You can stay here for the night like you were judged."
Artimer kept hearing these words as he sat there thinking. He shook his head, thinking over of what had happened over the last few days.
"How could I have fallen so low..." He said to himself, with a sigh. The recent happenings shook him to his core, he wanted to help, but did it the wrong way. He began ranting in his jail cell roaming about,
"Spinning, turning, dancing in the dark..no escape.." He said as he began to dance in the cell, to his own music, the half heart shaped amulet bouncing as he moved.
A soft whisper crept from seemingly no where, "There is an escape, Artimer." Artimer fell silent and hoped the voice would go away.
He woke up a few hours later, "I have to find Faladron...the crimes I commited... are inexcusable. It was not right..I am no better...only a few hours and I will be able to seek him out." He said with a sigh, and his thoughts traveled to Elisabeth before he fell asleep, and the nightmare occured again.

A dark-haired elfess strides through the snow, each footstep making a crackling noise as though she held no fear of the dangers in these woods.

Coming upon a familiar form huddled on the ground, she slows her step and masks any concern she may feel behind a crooked smile as she stands over Faladron, "Greetings hun."

Then she slowly kneels near him and speaks more softly, "You alright?" as she watches his tears with her usual puzzled expression.

At first he didn't realize who came near, he probably didn't realize at all that there was someone near, he just looked at her as if staring right through,
not taking notice of her words.

After some moments his eyes hinted him snapping out of his thoughts and he turned his face away from her quickly, hiding under his coat for a moment to brush his face off, he then looked at her.

I feel aweful, but thanks for asking.

He smiles wearily then sighed at her.

Starling lays a hand softly on Faladron's arm as he turns his head away, keeping quiet as she watches him hide his face. Making no remark about his tears, she gives him a vague nod and quietly brushes the snow from his coat. "Sorry hun," she says sounding more sincere than might be expected.

Tilting her head, she watches him with a curious expression for a long moment before slowly standing and offering her hand to help him up.

Bang! Bang!... Bang!

Smoke and steam formed into water droplets over the anvil and dripped down the smith's wet thick brown hair, most of which was tied into a ponytail. The moisture mixed with the sweat of his brow only to evaporate again once fallen on the hot iron, to become one with his creation.

He was naked from the waist up. The rogue's body was changed by the months of smithing. Still slender and thin, his musculature was now, however, defined sharply, his wired muscles felt like wood, his blood was hot, he could withstand burning touch, breathe soot, and a strike of his hand was hard enough to shape metals. Finally, a trade that devoured his passion - it helped him focus.

His face was clear of paint, which would throw off at first sight anyone who never saw him without it.

Bang! Bang!

A hooded man in a dark green cape walked into the shop, dropping the parchment on the anvil in front of the smith.
A quick glance over the writing, and a direct look into the man's eyes. A look which carried a heavy burdain, a shadowed anger, a fiery passion, and chaos of seemingly Nargun himself. Fire, air, shadow, and chaos had whipped the man's face, making him step back cautiously.

"What do I have to do with this?"

"The future approaches" - the hooded man said.

"Why are you showing me this?"

"We know who you are."

"I'm not who you're looking for."

"Oh, you're very much exactly that. Face it, blacksmith. Was it not you who slaughtered the entire camp of the White Eagle clansmen three years ago single handedly, with half of your face painted black. You're him."

Konrad dropped the hammer, and walked around the anvil, moving towards the hooded figure, pressing him out of the shop. The man backed up, touching the door frame defensively. Konrad let his hair free, shaking it, and barked at the man, his eyes gleaming at him.

"Yes, it's me, here am I! Anything else you want to speak of?"

"You're a great fighter, consider our offer. It's a good opportunity to escape the island's bitter fate." The hooded man chuckled.

"Thank -your- fate, stranger, for me not being a true killer, for my duty as a citizen would be fulfilled by now with this unfinished sword dripping wet with your brain. Leave, and never come to me again. I'm not interested."

Konrad drew his hand forward to dehood the stranger, but he was swift to escape out the door and run down the street. Konrad considered a chase, but the night was late and he grew tired, besides three orders were still in line, unfinished.

"What nonsense." He shook his head and returned to his smithing.