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Sauri's words did little to stem Gruugash's anger. On the contrary, he knew from her prolonged response that she was spouting lies, and if the truth was so important that Sauri would risk covering it up with a lie, than Gruugash knew that no good could come from it. "So you just happened to be disguised as an elf when you found this pinkskin messanger?! Or did you return to camp and then change, but its easy to tell if an enemy is moving, you wouldn't change unless...."

Gruugash stopped talking as he realized the solution the possibility of Kiva returning to Feldar, and whatever his daughter could be planning. Putting his stool back near the table, Gruugash motioned for his daughter to sit. "Very well.... we will not worry about these scouts, even if Feldar was to know our next move, the pinkskin's wouldn't risk attacking us, chances are they'll wait till we've moved further west and exhausted our forces." As soon as he finished saying this, an orc with a bloodied white cloth draped down the front of him like an apron walked in and set a large piece of only slightly cooked meat on the table, which lead to a small tremble by the goblin below. "This 'ere is some kinda meat.... found it in the goblin stores.... could be boar.... or whateva' it is dey eat round 'ere." Without out another word, the orc left, but not before leaving two tankards on the table, and a pitcher of mead.

Gruugash ripped a piece of off the still bleeding meat before looking at Sauri, "Still, with the Feldarians, it won't be safe for you to be out in Corollia by yourself..... and so, I'm sending you and the gift and escort to our destination, make sure you aren't attacked.... ah, theres the one for the job now..... Wulf! Get in here!"

Pushing aside the tents flap, Wulf stooped slightly to enter before looking at Gruugash with a smile on his face, "What is it my old friend, my riders have all finished packing their gear." Gruugash looked back at Sauri for only a second before answering, "You will take my offspring and the pinkskin to the next camp destination, from there, once they leave you, you will patrol the area making sure nobody tries to follow them into the city." Gruugash knew that Wulf could understand Gruugash's wish by now. He wanted Wulf to keep the two from sneaking away once they had left the camp, and assigning Wulf to guard them was the perfect way to make certain that this would not happen.

Gruugash didn't say anything in reply towards Sauri, he merely stared at her as she left, and as soon as she was out of the tent, he sighed. "Paranoid.... could very well be.... timing has no concept of mercy....." As Gruugash thought on it, he realized that he was letting the incedent with the wizard cloud his judgement. Still, now that he had thought of it, he could see very few downsides to sending Wulf to accompany his daughter. Even if she wasn't planning anything, there was still the pinkskin who fought Sauri to a draw, and the fact that if she was a part elf, she could probably sneak away without Sauri noticing a thing. His only real concern was with what Wulf would do in this position.

Turning to face his old friend, Gruugash motioned for him to sit down. "Wulf, it's important that you safely escort my offspring and the pinkskin to the destination, and equally important is that you give them no reason to act against my will." Gruugash knew that Wulf hated Sauri for having such a high rank when she was a filthy halfbreed. As for Kiva, Gruugash knew that there were rumors that Wulf had bedded those of other races, but he would never dare to this if it went against Gruugash's orders. Thats one of the reasons Wulf was one of Gruugash's highest ranked chieftain, if he was commanded to do something, he would do it, regardless of how cowardly, or disgraceful it might be.

Wulf tore of a piece of the meat, and washed it down with several mouthfuls of mead directly from the pitcher. "I don't know how they do it.... but these Jax gobs make one hell of a mead!" Wulf let out a short laugh before looking at Gruugash, "Don't worry my old friend, I won't hurt them.... after all, I'll get my chance to kill that mutt soon enough anyway, the life of an orc is to hard for one with her blood, soon enough she'll turn away from it all, go live in the trees with the rest of her disgusting kind." Gruugash couldn't help but laugh at this remark, "No offense my old friend, but you've been saying that she'd turn against us since the day I made you chieftain... still, you know that if you do go against my orders, I will treat you with the punishment I give to any in my horde who act with insubordination..." Wulf only smiled and took another gulp of mead, for whatever reason, Gruugash seemed to act softly on his daughter when it came to punishment, but in the past, Wulf had seen the warchief behead his own generals merely for saying no. As Wulf standed up to leave, Gruugash motioned towards the food, "Give the rest to your mount, then head to the edge of the camp and wait for my daughter and the gift...."

Sauri stomped away. Sending me with that filthy pig...Of all the things. She kept walking, suddenly her mind picked up on some one following her. What the...?, instead of turning around, Sauri kept walking. Her ears twitched following the sound. Drow? Entering her tent Sauri pulled a gob with her.

"Bring me some food." He nodded and walked away. Sauri snatched him back by his ear. "Real, food gob. Or I'll roast you instead." She made sure to smile at him as she would smile before a feast. Fear shon in his eyes he scampered away. "Comming in Drow?"

Evelyn kept her hands behind her back as she skipped pleasantly at the thought of food. Sauri confronted someone and ordered food. Then the woman barked at the drow/elf asking if she was coming in.

The small woman gave a look around as though looking for whom Sauri was talking to. In truth it took her a few seconds to figure out the other woman was indeed talking to her. Evelyn played a look of embarassment and scratched her head. "Sorry, didn't notice you meant me," she said with a smile.

She walked into the tent without anymore invitation and began to wander in it. Her sharp eyes took in all the poles and openings of the tent. The objects in the room got her attention as a theif, though she knew the most valuable thing in this room was the amulet around her neck. She placed her hands on her hips and said with her back turned to Sauri, "Nice... place."

As Wulf rode through the camp towards the northern edge, he spoke to his mount in the ancient language of his clan. During the war against the Bloodroar clan, Gruugash and his warriors had killed all the other inheritor's of Wulf's clan's chieftain blood. Because of this, he was the only one who knew how to speak in what he referred to as beast tongue.

Unfortunately, while unique, the ability to speak with his wolfish mount didn't have much of a use other than to give him something to do. After all, he didn't need verbal communication to instruct his mount, for he had never found himself in a situation where the beast acted against Wulf's wishes. Still, aside from allowing him to voice his mind without being understood by others, it was always amusing to see the orcs' reactions as he rode by, making an assortment of fierce sounds while the translation could be as simple as a prediction about the weather.

"Not that I disagree, it's just that Gruugash knows the only way she would die on my watch was if I neglected her for too long, or if I killed her myself... either way, I doubt he would listen to reason." In reply, the wolf merely let out a slur of growls, snarls, and something that sounded like the wolf was gagging, Wulf couldn't help but laugh every time he heard this, after several failed attempts at pronouncing Sauri's name, the mount settled with the gagging sound that he seemed to believe fit the halfbreed's description. However, Wulf didn't reply till they were near the tent on camps edge, walking halfway through the entrance, Wulf looked back and replied in the same fierce sounding language, "Don't worry, apparently she has this urge to disobey Gruugash's orders in battle, goes off on her own.... if she does that once the battle in Corollia starts.... who knows, maybe she'll fall on some misfortune.

Turning to look back in the tent, Wulf felt slightly surpirsed when he saw Kiva already there. However, his expression quickly changed into a large smile, his tongue moving over his fang-like canines once again. "You must be the one Gruugash calls..... the Gift of Feldar..... indeed, he did the right thing in leaving you alive...." At this, Wulf took a few steps forward before placing the palm of his hand under her chin, his fingers moving along her cheek. However, right at that moment an orc entered the tent, and Wulf immediately removed his hand and looked at the orc, "What is it!?" The orc stared for a moment before answering Wulf in orcish, Wulf merely nodded his head, but before he could leave, Wulf had him bring in a table an two chairs, to be placed in the center of the room, the chairs on opposite side. However, the last order, Wulf issued in common tongue, "I believe we recovered some Corollian wine from the goblins.... it's the one that comes in the taller.... thinner, glass..." Thinking for a word in common the orc might know, Wulf finished the description, "Pinkskin ale."

As soon as the orc brought in the chairs, Wulf sat down and looked up at Kiva, "It would seem that the warchief's mutt insists on eating first... halfbreeds lucky to get more than scraps!" Wulf couldn't control his temper at the end of this statement as he slammed his fist down on the table. However, he was able to quickly regain his composure as he looked at Kiva, "Won't you sit? If I'm to protect you, and you will need protection, you might as well tell me about yourself." Wulf didn't really care for what she had to say, but Gruugash wanted her to be kept happy, or as Wulf reasoned, at least until she had finished her task, then he doubted Gruugash would care much for what would become of her.

Nearly time to leave. Finch has made sure Rothun has all of her tack and that her traveling pack is secured. The pack was given to her minutes ago by her beloved brother. Its contents include a lot of rope to tow back the minotaur, some turkey jerky and dried vegetables for snacking, and three canteens of fresh mountain water. Finch is rarely cared after so the concerned gesture fills her with even more purpose to win this personal contest. Patting Rothun's muscular shoulder the rogue pulls at the bit to have her mount lower her head.
"Alright Rothun, we're in for a hard ride and a tough fight. Nobody gave us rules and we didn't set them. You and I may only assume that we can square off with Seth the Strong and his mount. Although, to assume is to make an a** of one's self...I don't have much to lose since I don't plan on losing this. You don't either, correct?", she never has known if the grand gypsy vanner mare ever does truly understand her, but she does know they trust each other and will go to great lengths. Finch smirks when Rothun shakes her head and then nods, "Capital."
Seizing the horn of the curved saddle and gripping her mare's whithers the battle-ready woman sets her left foot in a stirrup before swinging her right leg up and over the saddle seat. Wriggling her hips until she feels comfortable, Finch coaxes Rothun to walk to the outskirts of the village where a small crowd has gathered to watch curiously. Hawk is among them at the front and gives her a knowing smile. A little way to her right side is Seth the Strong. He has his hammer strapped across his backside, a travel pack slung on his hip and a complete scowl on his face. His buff mass a silhouette in the dark, still taunting Finch's abilities. Lighted torches nearby give his mane a glistening flare and at this she must look away again. Seth's mount is one of the warrior steeds, an appaloosa stallion with one of his eyes seemingly enlarged with a black spot around it.
Burn me! That horse might be little but he'll certainly be a tad faster than milady...unless good ol' High and Mighty there doesn't weigh the dear down.
Seth suddenly looks over at her and snorts. "Ladies first."
"Age before beauty my friend." she smirks at him.
"Oh just go, ya wicked she-devil!" he nearly growls at her.
Snickering does the rogue urge Rothun into a firm trot to warm up with. She is glad she did not decide to bring Grub, he'd prove stubborn and too much weight. Finch left him within the grazing meadows of the tribe's herd under the watch of young guards that she graciously paid for any boredom. Within moments she can hear Seth's steed galloping up from behind and she rolls her eyes beneath the muzzle of her bear helm. A horse, or any mount, could tire easily after awhile if they aren't warmed up or allowed to stretch on their own. Allowing the head hunter to pass by swiftly, Finch takes some time to admire the night. The grass is a few shades darker green, a faint smoke smell follows her a short time from the tribal encampment, fireflies are sighted in the distance, hungry bats are screeching above...it is very peaceful and centered at night. During the day is too much noise and this may be why Finch is usually nocturnal although she still awakes far too early. Rothun snorts and the rogue lets the mare have her head, settling into a dead gallop. Her creamy mane waves briefly in her rider's face until Finch tilts her head to the side but keeps her body leaning forth. In a couple of hours of galloping the rogue slows her mount when she sees a few buildings and lights. This is their first checkpoint, Suraly. Deep hoofprints on the ground indicate that Seth did not stop and is possibly still riding his stallion hard. Slowing Rothun and dismounting at a nearby tavern she has the patched mare drink steadily. Allowing Rothun to walk around the area to cool off, Finch strides into the bar. She sits at the counter and orders a small glass of apple cider. This'll be a quick stop and Rothun can use a last rest anyways. Paying promptly for the cider she sips at it but not before noticing a one-legged man in the corner, staring at her. Finch nibbles the inside of her bottom lip briefly. How could such a man of his young age get such misfortune? And why would he be looking at her so pleadingly? The rogue chugs the rest of her small tankard and walks over to him, sitting across from him at his table.
"I saw you looking at me, is there something you need me for?" it is custom for a rogue such as herself to allow others to request any fighting or recovery services. And Finch is just snoopy at times.
"Yes, yes...sorry.", he nods quickly and drinks some mead before answering, "I notice you're a stranger here and that got me thinking you could help me without getting into trouble. A man in this tavern hacked off my leg when he found out I was...spending time with his sister. His sister isn't too happy about this and neither am I, but she said she'd never forgive me if I harmed him...what if someone else did though?"
Finch nods slowly and rubs her helm's muzzle, "Mmm...I see. What's in it for the worker?"
"I used to be a mounted fighter, I have armor fitted for a warhorse. It's in prime condition and is made of fine leather. The hide the leather originated from came from beasts of those tribes, giant boar so it is very hardy."
After being pointed out to the right man, Finch goes and sits across of him at the another table in the middle of the room. He has short black hair and small blue eyes. She looks up at him with her usual smirk.
"Hey there, I hear you're strong..." she puts out her left arm and keeps her forearm upright.
The man raises his eyebrows but would never back down from a challenge. She looks strong and could be one of the barbarians. Raising his own arm and gripping her hand, he barely braces his muscles. Which is a mistake as Finch grips him suddenly tightly and bores his arm down flat on the table. At this point many eyes in the bar travel over to them, voices start to whisper or chuckle. The rogue stands as she begins to unstrap her armor.
"Okay, you didn't do so well on that, but now we'll duke it out."
She throws her armor back towards the one-legged man and suddenly the black haired man frowns with anger, he knows what's going on. Much to her delight he doesn't back down still. The rogue prepares herself in a fighting stance, right shoulder and leg forth with her left arm gripped back slightly, elbows tucked to deflect a sudden kick or blow, fists up to protect her face and neck. The man has obviously never had any real training as he seems taken back by her serious stance. He simply charges at her and takes a mighty swing. Finch keeps her breathing calm as it is ever vital to keep good breathing in order from tensing the body for the use of kick boxing. Side stepping his throw and sending a side kick into the man's ribs, Finch moves forward quickly and twists her hips to give her left shoulder more power, delivering a harsh hook shot upwards. The man grunts from this attack and can feel one of his teeth fly out to hit the floor. He easily gives up though which makes her frown. With the tavern laughing and cheering the newcomer, Finch quickly puts on her armor and is given her reward from the now smiling one-legged man before dashing out in case the guards arrive.

Finch is cantering Rothun past the edge of Waterford now and dashing away from the Yip Tribe's distant sight. She dislikes wolves, they are vermin in this land to her and cause nothing but grief and headaches. Anyone that worships them might be the same. It has been a few days, just last night she had passed a small camp where Seth and his weary looking mount were dozing. He wasn't too happy to see the woman of course and made a rude gesture, but Finch's only reply was to hold up her hand with her thumb from her nose and wiggle her fingers at him playfully. Rothun's armor is glorious. The leather is in fair condition as the man promised and it covers her chest, rump, shoulders, sides and neck nicely. The helm fitted on her snout is of good quality as well. Whichever giant boar that surrendered its hide for the slick armor had its tusks worn down and used at the top of the horse helm, just between the ears to look like foot long horns. Now the grass is fading away to be replaced by sand. The Talon tribe had sent a request to the Yips earlier, requesting they laid out bait for a minotaur at the edge of the desert. Which should be nearby and so the rogue eases her mount into a brisk walk. Here the sun hammers upon them both with a whole new type of force and fury. Finch can feel her skin is damp, but it won't be long now until...ah, there. A large stack of sugared hay has been left to attract the target. It just so happens one is there now. The minotaur makes the giant boar she killed days earlier look like a sweet little porker. It is male perhaps for the beast has thick horns atop his skull. He must be at least eight and a half feet in height, his shoulders are broad and his thick arms are shoveling the grass into his mouth. Finch doesn't like sneaking up on a fellow fighter. She gives a shrill whistle, pulling Rothun to a halt. The bullman raises his head with his ears flopping a bit. He spots the human and trumpets in sheer anger, how dare one of them enter his land! Without another thought he charges with his massive weight tumbling his body this way and that. Finch quickly hops off of her mare and gives her rump a smack, sending her to begin circling the large beast. The rogue instantly draws out her feathered Falchion and gives a battle cry near the roar of a bear. She lets the bristled target come to her before dodging to the side and slicing at his side, quickly lowering he sword to one hand and stabbing her morning start into the wound. The minotaur bellows, swiveling his head and slamming the side of a horn into her. Although Finch isn't light, the force was enough to knock her into a nearby dune. Of course the minotaur is still too enraged to rip out the mace, which would only cause it to bleed more. Sputtering out some sand does she quickly jump to her feet and watch Rothun charge from behind, white ears flat back. The mare slams into him, making him kneel and lose balance briefly. Finch runs as fast she she can to the minotaur. She stabs him in the lower back and is again flung, but this time by his hefty arm. Her sword falls a few feet away and she hastens herself to grab it. By now the bullman has risen again and bears down upon Finch, mooing greatly and twisting his head, slashing the back of her legs with his horns. When the woman cries out the mare crashes into their enemy once more. She is able to do so and not harm her rider in the process. At this time Finch is able to stand weakly with her sword gripped, noting the drop of speed in the beast. The venom from her mace must be working. Breathing a bit heavily due to the heat and the thrill, she gives one last charge and rams her thick blade into the minotaur's chest.

The drow/elf looked at Sauri and blinked. A trip? All I really want is food and this stupid amulet off my neck, she confided in herself. Then a slow realization struck her. If she traveled, then she might come across the true owner of the amulet. Only that person would be able to get the stone off her neck. The amulet stayed surprisingly silent during her small realization.

"Sure," Evelyn said, suddenly dropping to the ground with her legs crossed. The movement showed her skill of fluidity, a needed talent for her profession. She placed her elbows on her knees and her hand under her chin. I don't need to know the reason for this trip, the drow/elf told herself. It may bring more trouble than I like. "When do we start?"

I stood gracefully. Casting a glance towards the door, I sauntered off to my master.

"Please excuse my fowardness, but the ape one will make a mockary of us... Sooner or inevitably later. It would be best to dispose of him now. Or does the Master wish to llow him a slow and entertaining death?" I was skeptical and knew his answer before he spoke. Shrinking I flew to his shoulder and crawled insde his armor. Sitting I waited for instructios.


Sauri smile wickedly.

"Right... now." Picking up a leather sack, she began shoving clothes and a pendant in there. Sauri turned back to Evelyn for a moment to see if she was following. Leaving the tent Sauri began stalking towards the tent that she ws dur at.