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Salathe looks around himself, he is in a ditch as he feels the heat of fire across his face. In front of him, a dead soldier. Beside him, he sees scared teenagers clenching their swords and shields as they press against the earthen wall. He grips his halberd as he stands to look out of his ditch at the ensuing battle.

*Clink*

The sounds of metal clashing are all too familiar. As the inexperienced children scream beside him, he leaps above the wall and rushes towards the battle. He see's an officer of Albar he had spoken too early that day. Salathe was impressed by the mans ability to rally his troops, but does not question why they were left in tears in a ditch. He grips the leather straps of his halberd... so hard that it feels as if the shaft is about to shatter,

*Clink*

The officer is struck by a barbarian's massive axe. Salathe bears his teeth as he leans looking towards his foe. The barbarian roars as he prepares his weapon for the battle. Salathe feels a rage burning from his scar as he leaps forward towards his enemy.

*Clink*

Salathes eye's open slowly, they slowly focus to the light and he drowsily blinks as he absorbs in the morning light. He sits up quickly as his cheeks bloat and he exhales looking around the room. Seeing an altar of Malachin, he quickly realizes he has awoken and lays back down, the sunlight peering through the walls of the temple and resting upon his thorned scales. He coughs lightly as he quickly reaches his hand to rest upon his damp bandages. Looking upon his own bloodied hands he grumbles as he also touches the scar upon his face, which has also shed a small amount of blood. He shuts his eyes hard before opening them wide with a deep exhale. It had been over a month since he last slept, his scar acting up was to be expected. He shakes his head as he stands, listening to the sounds coming from the mine below him.

*Clink*

As he folds his blanket and places his journal under a cobblestone on the floor, he looks out through the temple upon the vast desert.

"I suppose I never was a conventional lizard..."

He thinks back to his swamps, and the mountains he had called home for decades. Salathe shakes his head one last time as he fully awakes himself. He places down the blankets in the corner and walks throughout the temple. Running a hand over the three Malachin daggers, which he had crafted himself and laid in his lords shrine, he smiles. Looking over his shoulder to the gates of Cadomyr, he grabs a small bag as he makes his way through the short mountain pass.

*Clink*

Upon reaching the bottom of the ladder, he looks over to the one who is mining.

"Tch... Of course."

He smirks as he looks to Fooser.

"You seem to never quit."

Fooser laughs as he attempts to sell Salathe some recently found ores. They barter shortly and reach a quick agreement, but Salathe says to wait until he is finished his mining for them to deal. He offers Fooser a final nod as he heads out of the mine and back to Cadomyr. Blinded again by the sun as he leaves, he never seems to remember the Temple doesnt offer proper protection against its light, and his eyes must always adjust again as he leaves the mountain. Taking a cloth out, he wipes away the small traces of blood from his scar as he looks upons the gates of Cadomyr. As he steps onto the stone pavement, he sees Katharina and Shiba walking from the gates with bags. Hearing the sound of glass against glass, he assumes they met with Tyan to have purchased bottles for their work. Salathe offers them a short conversation and wishes them well on their way back to Runewick. Horatio stops him to inquire about some previous issues. A slight growl is all that Horatio receives as Salathe walks by raising a dismissive hand. Running a hand across the back of his neck as he makes his way through the front gate, he nearly bumps into Lafadiel, who has a number of maps poorly strung up in his hands.

"Salathe, how have you been?"

Salathe begins to speak as Lafadiel continues to walk out, clearly focused on his own task at hand.

"Ehm.. I am well, Lafadiel..."

Lafadiel continues on his way, seemingly excited.

"Do be safe on your hunts!"

Salathe shouts to Lafadiel as he leaves. Salathe doesnt worry as he is sure that Lafadiel heard the words. He smirks to himself, shaking his head as he approaches his depot and removes some armor. Beror grumbles and mulls over a list in hand as Salathe fixes the leather straps of his armor across his chest. He dons his red cloak and turns to enter the market of Cadomyr. Already, he had heard the clashing of wooden weapons and wondered who had occupied the pit. He smiles to himself as he sees Kraex and Tyan sparring. He looks upon them shortly as S'rrt announces....

"I've alotta ssstones prepared, if any of yer up for some target practice."

Salathe cringes lightly to himself as he feels some old bruises come back. He sighs as he thinks to himself...

"I suppose I'm obligated..."

He opens his mouth about to offer himself just as Caynwyn appears.

"S'rrt, A lesson is about to start for Aoodh, if you'd like to join."

"Kheh, and here ah' thought I'd get sssome training done. Ah-huh, I'll join this lesson."

Salathe sighs of relief as he leans onto Fredericus' table. Fredericus runs his mouth about some fish, which Salathe annoyedly purchases. As Kraex and Tyan finish a spar, Kraex looks over to where he's standing.

"Oh, Greeba Grandmasta."

Salathe returns the welcome, as Tyan also turns to greet him.

"Salathe, you should join us in training today."

"Oh... I'm sure you two are efficient enough together... And I've only just awoken. I'll leave you two to your own efforts."

Salathes nods to them as he turns towards the main market.

"Ubkay, Farebas Grandmasta."

Grandmaster.... Salathe thinks to himself. Everytime they call him that he feels a part of embarrassment and regret in his heart. How did such a lizard ever reach such a position? As each day, and each event with his sworn brothers and sister comes, he feels less and less deserving. Salathes thinks back as he recalls past events of defeating Bronn in a duel.

"Thats why we call him Grandmaster."

Tyan says immediately after Salathe defeats Bronn. This somewhat upset Salathe though... Does simple skill with weapons determine a leader? He had never considered this to be the case. Salathe had followed countless leaders who could barely wield a butter knife, let alone a proper blade. He thought back, with embarrassment that someday poor leadership will be shown outright on his part, and that faith had been improperly placed when the Order was formed...

"And dat why joor Grandmasta."

Salathe recalls the moment shortly after his speech in the tavern. Kraex stated very simply, and from his utmost belief, that Salathe was indeed suited for such a title. Nonetheless, he shakes his head again to toss away these thoughts and worries for the moment. No matter what he may think, he had been given a task and position by his sworn family. He looks forward to see Guy and Josephine rushing into the tavern as Guy attempts to provide some form of music from his pan pipes. Josephine cringes slightly, seemingly not amused. But with each attempt, Salathe sees that Josephine may even grow fonder of Guy with each attempt. He contemplates running to the tavern to join them, but stops himself at the depot and addresses some poorly organized parts of their armory.

"I'm ready."

States Fooser abruptly, as Salathe looks up surprised. He hands over the agreed upon coins as Fooser passes over the ores he promised. Salathe nods a thanks to Fooser as he sorts the ores away into the armory. He hopes Sammy will soon again provide for the Order so that he can gift to him a large amount of materials for his crafting purposes. Just as Fooser heads off again with his pickaxe and unnecessary drow helmet, Horace hobbles over to the depot, bending Salathe's ear about details on his alchemy which Salathe does not fully understand. After receiving a large batch of potions, he simply thanks Horace and hands over some fresh pies and a purse of coins. He smirks and shakes his head as Horace scoffs down the food and hobbles his way back to working on potions.

Salathe smiles as he watches the alchemist head off, and as he turns, he faintly see's Guy laughing aloud as a disgruntled Josephine snatches the pan pipes from his hands. Turning all the way around Tyan and Kraex argue about a trivial joking matter as a chuckling Tyan uses his wooden sword to knock of Kraex's helemt. As he continues to turn and watch his surroundings, at the corner of his eye he sees Kraex leap into the air as a joking Tyan now makes a very serious and scared face. His gaze ends upon S'rrt who offers a hand to Caynwyn as she finishes climbing the ladder to head off to her infirmary.

In the moment, Salathe seems happy. He thinks to himself, no matter how or why he ended up being placed in such a position... with such a title... he was happy to meet the challenge and purpose of his role under the burning crimson sun of Cadomyr.

((Open =) ))

Cay cleans up the breakfast dishes and helps her rowdy children prepare for their outing..giggling as Maddi and Wayde squeal with delight in their excitement..both surrounding their Papa anxious to be on their way. With a perfunctory hug and kiss before they all were out the door in a flurry of motion, Cay then prepares for her own day. One day, she must learn to cook more then this bread and fish ...the thought again races through her mind for the umpteenth time...

When she had time. One day.

Rushing out the door not too long after them, preparing to meet Azuros at the infirmary in order to give Aodh a lesson, Cay typically doesn't bother to lock the door feeling perfectly safe in town. An errant breeze blows sand toward her as one grain painfully lodges in her eye causing sudden blindness as they both immediately begin to water. Attempting to remove the irritant while fumbling for some water in her supplies to wash it out, yet still walking, Cay runs into something hard and unmoving and is suddenly stopped as her arms were now held to steady her by large strong hands

Ms Cay, better watch where you are going, need help?

The voice with a deep rumble of a chuckle wasn't immediately recognized yet she gives a smile blinking now reddened eyes in the bright sun attempting to look up and see him while murmuring...

Sand..thank you but I am fine.

Finally clearing her eyes only to look around and not see the person anymore, Cay sighs as she manages this time to close her eyes while another gust blows warning of a possible storm coming soon. This always caused a lot of excitement with Cay, herbs flowered and reached for the water in their thirst and were easily plucked. The only thing that briefly in her reminiscence marred her time at this new and wonderful place was the coolness of the forests close at hand to go exploring in. Not only gathering herbs, but the simple beauty of places like Ushara's altar in the now sunken island of Gobaith had her briefly sad wishing to see just one more time the place where she and Felix were married. Shaking her head deciding purposefully not to be maudlin, Cay waves to people she sees. it always surprises her how welcome they were to her and her family along with all the druids. Cay actually thought of each as her extended family..Srr't, Salathe, Kraex, Tyan, Grandpa Sammy, Lafadiel, Guy and Josephine..there were just so many now and she loved them all along with many in the other towns.

Carrying a heavy bag laden with supplies for the beautiful Infirmary provided by the Queen for the town..Cay prepares to start her trip up the ladder.

He cursed as the beer ran down his mouth corners and wet his tunic. Was he took drunk to drink from a mug, or just too stupid? He placed the now empty mug down on the rough wooden table and wiped the back of his hand over the stubble around his mouth.
He was glad he had changed from Galmair to the Necktie Inn. In Galmair, he always wore his armor. He still wasn't over the incident with Hew and the memory of the sellsword, and was expecting daggers behind every corner. Objectively Borgate's pub wasn't any safer than Galmair. Rather the opposite. It had a less violent history for Tyan though, and he allowed himself to wear light clothes.
He liked going to the Inn. Many intresting people passed throught there, and although the dwarven barkeeper was once again passed out behind his counter, he served for decent company when awake. Besides, people in Cadomyr had started talking about him visiting the Unicorn Lion too often, which made taking his drinking to another location even more reasonable.
A few days before the Inn had allowed him to get to know the illusive Merung Harbes better, who was a man he let into Cadomyr for good, after all. It had been his command, a winestained command. Tyan was glad the man really seemed to live up to the expectations, and he would not have to regret his decision later on - or even worse, answer for it. The conversation had been interesting, although Tyan had come to the Inn for something else that day. He liked to answer letters in the solitude of a different location, and was answering a letter to Galmair. His carelessness had left the imprint of his wine goblet on it, but he sent it anyways. Put some flirting in it. Some flirting. No living being ever hated compliments. And the ones who did were lying.

He was feeling so empty. He had joined Cadomyr for sand digging, for quick gold. A mercenary, who then joined up with a lizard and an orc, encouraging them to aspire more. But they had never been that. They had never been leaders - they had done it well, aye, but they had never wanted to be leaders. They had wanted to be warriors fighting for their own good and glory, to please the gods with glorious victory and to explore the land.
Once every battle had been won, they had dissolved. Tyan had remained, he had found his own battles. And by that, alienated the Order, maybe even alienated himself.

And since all the doubt, there was an anchor. One person who gave him a footholt, and also a belief. He never realized when exactly he had picked up that belief. A follower of Cherga and Findari once, a follower of Zhambra now, he suddenly saw the rift. Maybe it was because he had seen the One as well. How often had he told Kraex that he heard His voice in his head. Asking one question, always. "Why not." It is not only about surviving, it is about how we survive as well, he tries to tell himself.

After a crashed meeting and a talk with a person he hopes will be another ally, he returned to Cadomyr. He made his casual walk to the palace to check on the news and gather his letters. He frowned at some, but stuffed them all into his bag and headed home. When he crossed the Unicorn Lion, Cadomyr's tavern with that ridiculous name, he heard laughter from it. He sneaked to the entrance and took a look inside. And then he saw them.

It is Salathe there, sitting at the head of the table. One of the rare moments when he is drunk, trying to keep his composure. It is Kraex talking, no, babbling about honorful deeds and his /lub slabe/, it is a woman grieving the imprisonment of her husband, it is Eve, the half elven dancer comforting her; it is a Flynn Cosgrove making a sarcastic remark, it is Mara in a green dress mischievously smiling at him, it is Anne just smashing her dinner into Bronn Ironheim's face, because he has made some kinky remark. It is a gypsy girl understanding, and sadly, sadly, moving on. It is Josephine wrinkling her nose seeing it all, and Guy soothing her.

It was S'rrt tapping on Tyan's shoulder. "Heya", and the stableboys and squires sitting and drinking at the table looking at Tyan straightening. "Pardon m'Lord, we didn't recognize you." Tyan turned to smile at the lizard and nodded, then turned back to the boys. "That is just fine. I did not recognize you either", he said, and turned to leave. "I have to report something. Tomorrow", he told S'rrt as he left, not wanting him to see the red lines that had formed below his eyes.