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Emma relaxes once the men announce themselves to be of the Knights of Rinder. She spurs her horse forward in order to come alongside Edryd...forming two representatives of Anhur arrayed before them. Just as she is about to speak, Crayne's voice calls out from behind her and he addresses them instead...

Crayne flicks his hair back behind his ears and brings his black horse to a stand still. He flicks his eyes about the knights to see if they display any colours or branding that would convince him that they are knights of Rinder. Patting at his horse's mane he looks up, "Good day to you sir? A fine one is it not?" Crayne smiles, taking a breath of fresh air, "Before we tell you as to why we have gagged this unfortunate man we would like you to provide us with some identification. For times are hard and in such times as these trust becomes more of a contentious issue. Please! It is not my intention to be rude or difficult in any way. But, if you would satisfy my scepticism I would appreciate it."

Crayne moves back a little way on his horse. He nevertheless keeps his eyes closely attached to the the leader and six men to see if they show any reaction that would suggest adversity. He glances at Daran and the archer to see whether they show any sign of recognition.

The face of the Knight hardens, and he exhales loudly. Daran shows no signs of recognition, and the archer seems a bit scared, faced with a Knight.

Emma turns in her saddle to look at Crayne, somewhat taken aback by his rudeness. Couldn't he see the insignia of the Knights of Rinder? She shakes her head, thinking to herself that even if the mage tried to play it down, his words could only serve as an insult to a noble knight of Rinder. And, indeed, that was what he appeared to be. Narrowing her eyes, she turns back toward the mounted men and calls upon the power of Anhur to peer into their souls. Was Crayne's distrust well-founded?

"My apologies, Sir Knight, for my friend's behavior and distrust..." Emma says, waving in Crayne's direction.

At this point Crayne interupts immediately, "Before you go on! I would just like to say a little more regarding this issue! Now!" he looks at the knight, "I believe it to be a matter of pure common sense just to check that you are who you say you are. For these are men who are a danger to the Kingdom of Rinder." Crayne gestures at Daran and the archer. Daran's pleasant look quickly changes to one of confusion, and he furrows his brow at his friend Crayne. The archer's eyes widen, but he doesn't say anything, for obvious reasons. "Therefore we do not want to hand over two men before we can confirm your identification. Believe me Sir Knight I have no intention to be rude or ill mannered or troublesome. As I said before times are perilous and in these times one must be careful!" Crayne sighs and shakes his head in a disgruntled manner.

Emma frowns at the interruption, but keeps her gaze focused straight ahead so Crayne won't see the expression on her face. What more could the "Highbrow" have to say? He had already insulted the nobleman and his high station, a breach of honor that might cause him to challenge Crayne, which could only precipitate more trouble. She sighs and leans forward in her saddle. Although it's plain to the knight that she doesn't agree with the mage's suspicions, she keeps silent and lets him speak his piece.

"Crayne, these men..." Edryd begins, holding up a hand to try to calm and stop his friend from worsening the already perilous situation. Edryd's voice trails off, and he gives a quick glance to Emma.

Taking this as a cue, she continues, addressing the Knight. "You are obviously what you seem, and well then, what else might you be, of course?! I'm sure we must represent a strange sight by bringing along a prisoner gagged in such a way. You must have been quite alarmed at our appearance...I assure you we've done no harm to anyone. The scales of justice do not come unbalanced so easily with us."

She laughs politely and eases her horse forward another step, "I'm Emmalya Sunderlund, a Shield-Maiden of Anhur and daughter of the Sunderlund family and estate near Parton. We were traveling south to meet with some of the King's forces when we came upon these servants of Caerloon. They led an ambush against our party, which we managed to repel, but not without taking a few wounds ourselves.

"As you can see, we've captured two men," she continues, riding her horse closer to the knight so the prisoners will not be able to hear their exchange very well. She points first to the archer and then again in Daran's general direction, "One is restrained by physical means, and the other through an enchantment laid upon him by our friend, Crayne." She pauses for a moment, looking hard at Crayne. "We had intended to take them to the nearest settlement or fort and turn them over to the authorities even though it might mean a slight delay in our mission. Your arrival is most fortunate, though. The hand of Nire must have guided you to us. Could we impress upon you the care of these prisoners? It would certainly speed our journey, and it's a mission given to us by the Duke of Parton and Sir Nigel, themselves."

She brushes her hair away from her eyes and smiles prettily at the knight, awaiting his reply. Nervously, she begins to toy with top of her helmet which sits before her on the saddle's pommel, twisting the red plume back and forth between her fingers. She hoped the knight's foul mood wouldn't hamper his better judgement...

Storm keeps to himself, as usual, seeming quite calm despite the situation with the Knight and his men. He flashes a curious eye at Crayne for distrusting the newcomers. Was there something Storm just didn't notice? He scratches his head a little in confusion, but then dismisses it, not having any fear of these men.

The Knight clears his throat after a long look over the party. "Sir Nigel, do you say?"

Edryd nods tentatively.

"That old crazy. I hope he knows what he's doing, sending a group such as this..." the Knights says condescendingly.

Crayne, quite insulted on behalf of the group, yanks on the reigns of his horse, intending to push forward toward the Knight. Edryd snaps his head around, casting a glare at Crayne. And Canter reaches over from atop his horse, and places his hand on the arm of his friend. "Let's not make this worse than it already is..." Canter whispers.

"But he is a Knight of Rinder, and has always been a loyal servant of his King. And I do believe Duke Bryant of Raimead to be a good man." He pauses and swallows hard, then addresses the group loudly. "I will relieve you of your prisoners. Clarke," he looks over his shoulder to the man just behind him. "See to it that these men are taken in custody."

Clarke then dismounts, and taking some rope from his saddlebag, he binds the archer and Daran. Daran is silent, casting a suspicious and angry look at Crayne as he is pulled off his horse and taken by the Knight's assistant.

Once the prisoners are secured, the Knight turns back to address the group. "Thank you for bringing these men to us...now we must be off as we are past due at the mountain compound..." Before anyone can even say goodbye, the Knight spurs his horse and takes off down the road. His men follow right behind him, carrying the archer and Daran away.

Travel continues, albeit a bit more quietly. The terrain is hilly, but quite green and beautiful. Sensing the need to break the ice a bit, Emma speaks up.

"This place is so beautiful!" Emma says, inhaling the fresh air and sitting proudly on her horse. She was beginning to think that there was indeed a purpose behind her masters sending her along with Rinder's Six. If nothing else, she was getting a chance to finally see the world in which she lived!

Riding beside Hannibal, she continues their conversation from before, attempting to gain a better understanding of the other newcomer to Rinder's Six. "Have you traveled much, then?" she asks, "You seem to know more about the lay of the land than I would have expected."

Hannibal, not having been on a mount in some time, feels the aches and pains associated with riding and shifts his weight in the saddle to compensate. Taking a draw on his water flask, he turns and looks at Emma curiously. How such a great warrior could retain her beauty so well was beyond him.

Emma innocently returns Hannibal's curious look, awaiting his reply, but enjoying the ride enough to appreciate the countryside, and his company, as they ride along.

Shrugging, Hannibal answers her. "I guess you could say I've travelled a lot. Most of the time I would fake being a mercenary to get hired onto a caravan. Then I'd just rob 'em blind." Suddenly embarrased with what he revealed, he quickly changes the conversation. "Anyway, yeah, I've done a lot of travelling...but what about you? Where have your travels taken you?"

"Oh...," Emma is somewhat taken aback by Hannibal's surprising and seemingly unself-conscious admission to robbing people. It takes some time before she regains her composure enough to answer his question. Just what kind of person was this Hannibal, anyway?

"I...umm...well, I haven't had much opportunity to travel, really," she begins, "My studies at the temple took up most of my time. Of course, I traveled in and around Parton in order to visit my family or run an errand on my caste's behalf, but nothing really of this magnitude. I'm happy to finally get out and experience the world that I've spent so much time reading about. In fact, I guess you'd say that I'm really something of a world-traveler, but only through the books and scrolls of my library...

"Your journies must have been far more interesting than mine," she continues, "At least you've actually seen the things that I've only read about. You're lucky to have visited such places..."

Then her eyes narrow and she captures Hannibal's gaze for a moment, allowing some steel to creep into her voice. "I'm not sure that I can say I approve of the reasons you used to travel about, though," she says, "Gaining someone's trust in order to turn against them during their time of need is neither an honorable or just thing to do. And, Anhur frowns upon those that would take the fruits of labor from those that worked hard for them."

Suddenly Hannibal feels very ashamed. He didn't like to hurt people, nor let those he cared for down. So far he liked the Rinder's six and wanted very much to turn his life around. "Damn you Cahners!" he cursed silently to himself, "why must you always be right?!!" Looking back to Emma, he is glad to see that the scornful look in her eyes had been replaced by one of curiosity.

Her eyes soften for a moment and she lowers her voice, unable to keep up the heavy-handed, judgemental attitude of a High Inquisitor. All that's left is a string of questions that tumble from her lips. Her gaze upon the thief is one of sympathy and curiosity rather than anger and indignation. "What ever would cause you to commit such terrible crimes, Hannibal?" she asks, "Was there some reason in your past that drove you to such a life? Didn't your conscience ever bother you?"

For a moment, he thinks back to all the experiences he has had. Was there pity? Bad Conscience? No, just fear. Smiling to Emma, whom he believes must be a Paladin, he replies softly so as the others cannot overhear. "No Emma, there was never remorse, unfortunately but I can assure you that that was a different time and I have changed. Back then, if it wasn't through fear, then it was most certainly through hunger that I did what I did. I never took more than I could use and if I ever did, I would give it to the church." Pausing for a moment, he allowed the sadness to creep back onto his face before hiding it again with a pained smile.

Emma quietly watches Hannibal's expression, using her intuition to read what might be going through his mind. He certainly seemed ashamed of his past. And, if he had helped the church with some of his stolen property, perhaps he really was trying to make amends? Even so, that wasn't exactly the proper atonement for such a crime, but it did show that he had the desire to be different.

She keeps silent, waiting for him to continue, and staying attentive. She wanted him to know that he could talk with her without fear of rejection. Instead, he could expect understanding and assistance, as long as he displayed a true desire to be something other than that which his past made him out to be.

"Maybe I have not changed for the better," Hannibal says, "but my life is not over yet. If you could do me just one favor...Your god may not care for the likes of a petty thief and not want to answer my prayers, but ask if he could show kindness to Melinda...none of it was her fault." Ashamed of himself more now than ever before, Hannibal puts some distance between his horse and Emma's. Not wanting to appear rude, just wanting to end the conversation for now.

Emma watches him go, holding her voice, sensing that he had just shared something that he may have never felt comfortable speaking of before. That was progress at least...and it was best not to push too far sometimes. That could only cause more damage, possibly pushing him further into the depths of despair. "Who might Melinda be?" she wondered, "And what happened that would cause Hannibal to seek Anhur's kindness on her behalf?"

Emma leans back in her saddle and looks up toward the soaring mountains behind her. As beautiful as they were, they almost seemed like walls, keeping everything inside the pass and valley through which they rode. "Hannibal must have constructed a few walls of his own," she thought, "But he let something slip through. Just a name. Melinda." She would remember it when she prayed to Anhur that night.

Spurring her horse to catch up to the others, Emma sighs and reflects inwardly that she was slowly becoming the party's confidant. First Cyvieliog and now Hannibal. The members of Rinder's Six were strong indeed, for each of them had obviously wrestled with their inner demons at one time or another...even Guilliam before he left the group in Parton. Anhur must have lead her to them for just such a purpose. Perhaps she could help to bring some sort of closure to their pain. And in the process, maybe she could help mold them into the kind of heroes that could accomplish legendary deeds, thereby putting all of their names into the books and scrolls of her temple's library. "How ironic that would be...," she thought.

Inwardly she continues to think of many more questions, but leaves them unasked, fearful for what kind of damage they could have upon Hannibal and his relationship with Rinder's Six. Nevertheless, the questions continue to echo within her own mind: "Does he continue to do such things today? Is he still capable of treachery? Perhaps Rinder's Six should withhold their trust from him on this journey...or, maybe he has already made amends for his sinful ways? Was she being too judgemental? Perhaps Anhur had guided her to Hannibal so she could show him the error of his ways? How could Sir Nigel have come to entrust such a dangerous and important mission to him? Was he unaware of Hannibal's history?"

Storm overhears a bit of the conversation between Emma and Hannibal. He finds it interesting that another of Rinder's Six has had a mischievous background such as his own. He wonders if Hannibal's wrongdoings were choices he made on his own, unlike Storm's own past.

Emma continues to sit her horse and ride beside Hannibal, now busy with her own thoughts and revelations regarding the young thief. Periodically, she glances his way...then sets aside her feelings on the matter and sits straighter, determined not to treat him any differently for the time being. When the moment came, she could approach him with the philosophical reasons why his behavior should be changed.

The party continues to ride along the road, head south-east toward Merriam, Rinder's capital city. At one point late in the afternoon, the road merges with another, which approaches from the west. Just after passing this merge, a large carriage, decorated and elegant, passes speedily by, heading east toward Merriam. Storm's eyes follow the carriage and Canter chuckles a bit as he can picture Storm drooling over the wealth that the dwarf probably imagines belonging to those inside. But soon the dust from the carraige settles, and Rinder's Six once again find themselves alone on the road, trotting along toward Merriam.

In the early evening it is decided that they should stop and make camp. The pull off the road a ways, so as not to attract too much attention by other travelers. They stop atop a hill overlooking the city in the distance, below. The city appears brilliant, and as the sun sets behind them and the city fades into twilight, Emma sits on a rock, her arms around her knees, enjoying the view.

As Hannibal, Cy, and Storm light a fire, distribute rations, and fix the meal, Canter wanders over to where Emma sits. "Mind if I join you?" he asks her politely. Emma smiles, but doesn't really respond. "Merriam is a beautiful city, truly. We haven't spent much time there as a group. Just a day or so, on the way to the mine. But I used to remember coming here when I was a boy...on feast days...I lived about a day's travel away, but oh, how I looked forward to coming to Merriam. To hear the great horns announcing the arrival of a Duke or maybe even the King. I had no idea that one day I'd miss that so much..."

Emma places her hand on Canter's back, stroking him softly. "I have no memories of Merriam, just dreams. I hope...I hope to someday soon make some memories of Merriam...it seems so far from home..."

Edryd then approaches, standing behind Emma and Canter as they sit and just look at the city. The sky grows darker and the stars begin to shine overhead. "The farther we ride from your home, my lady, the closer we ride toward mine. Though my memories of home seem less...pleasant...than yours, Canter."

Soon night is upon the party. Watches are set and the group quietly drifts off to sleep. The night is uneventful, a cool breeze blowing over the group as they slumber under the canopy of the stars.

In the morning, they sit around the fire, quietly gathering their things. Crayne rises late, seeming angry and disturbed. He says nothing to anyone walking off in the distance for a bit. Perhaps fifteen or twenty minutes later he returns. The bags under his eyes are dark and one can see in his eyes his puzzlement.

"What is it?" Canter asks, chewing.

"I...I think I need to tell you all something..." Crayne begins, squatting down to join the others.

"Go ahead," Cy says, looking up from the sword he is wiping off with a cloth.

"Last night I had this dream," Crayne begins. "Unlike any other I can remember. There I was, standing in the forest...just like along the Caerloon border. We were standing in that clearing, and Sir Logan was in front of me...and standing next to me was this figure, this man. Logan didn't say anything to me, he just stood there, smiling. Then the man next to me placed his hand on my shoulder. It was like the forest was standing still...no birds, no breeze, no sounds. Just his voice...." Crayne's own voice trails off.

"Crayne, what did he say?" Emma asks, intrigued and concerned at the same time.

"He said...'Help me.' It was so clear. It was him. I remember. It was Dire Luthor! He turned to me and said, 'Help me. Only you can help me, Crayne. Please bring your friends and meet me in Jilten.' I remember those words clear as a mountain stream. The rest is all blurred and fading. But it was Dire Luthor, and he wanted my...he wants our help."

1. Each character gains an additional hp for rest over night, up to his/her max.

2. Responses? Actions?

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