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Granis inspected the various weapons the blacksmith had on display, admiring the craftmenship of each. Of all the places he had been, the land of Fire ever contained the best iron-mongers. Granis resumed his walk, his mind working on his next course of action. Making a turn, Granis decided that he would leave the city. It did not seem that much was happening, or at least not enough so, that required the hand of a mercenary. He decided that he would head west, through the mountains and to Pelions Bay. There was much trade there... and many people. Chances are, at least a few could have a use for him. His mind resolved, Granis increased his pace a tad and continued out of the city.

((Exit to The Flaming Mountains.))

Seifer entered through the northern gate this time calmly riding into town. He didn't have to worry too much about civilians not moving. His mount's intimidating appearance was enough to clear a path wherever the street was congested. Weaving through the crowds was unnecessary. Reaching the base He raised his arm, hailing the guards who saluted in return before opening the doors. Having entered the base, Seifer took a quick panning watch over some of the drills and exercises taking place in the training grounds before he dismounted and entered the base.

Coming upon the foot of the western mountain ranges Seifer yanked the reins bringing his steed to a halt. Taking a moment to remember the note he read he thought about the current situation in the mountains. His face twisted in disgust. "That vile twit holds our mountains and wants to form some sort of alliance?" He spat upon the ground as his grip on the reins tightened. Sensing this irritation and feeding upon it, his steed bristled a puff of flame from between its teeth. He looked up toward the skies over the mountains with the same scowling glare, Somehow I doubt those two jokers and Vincent seemed to be interested in repelling the invasion after all. So rather than show up to this haphazard summit to meet with the loon princess I think I had better check on a few things. I can only hope the royals aren't fool hardy enough to team up with air and go up against water. I honestly don't see what they would aim to achieve with a coastline interception. Well, there is that . . .

Giving a short turn, Seifer snapped the reins. He turned off course from the mountains and began charging toward the western plains as quickly as possible.

At his usual brisk pace, Seifer emerged brignt and early from the Military base at the edge of town and made his way through the streets atop his usual mount. Hooves continued to thunder about the cobble streets as he hurried on toward the supply department across town, Just how he was supposed to scour through water territory to determine a suitable route of attack. Naturally he would need a ship, but it had to be something small, so as not to call attention to himself, but something mobile enough to keep him out of harms way. As the supply base came into view from the maze of city streets, It occurred to Seifer that he may be able to kill two birds with one stone if he could commission a junker from capital city. The possibilities were starting to flow in, bringing a slight and sinister smile to Seifer's face.

Sensing a bit of relief in its master's nerves, Seifer's mount kicked up in pace to get his attention as it closed on the supply base.

On the seaside edge south of Flamma city five riders were speeding from the coastline, leaving behind a set of sinking lifeboats. The horses were armored, and the riders armed and outfitted for combat. As the scent of the sea was growing more faint, Seifer started to grow in spirits. Given the sheer speed of a nightmare, Seifer had to command his to slow down in order to match pace with one of the war horses of his comrades. Over the thunder of hooves Seifer spoke to the man, "Arrange a battalion for assault on Ardere Isola, and wait for instructions. I have to report to the royals." After a brief mutual nod, the four men split off from formation, traveling toward Flamma City with a less rushed pace. As Seifer split toward the north, he snapped the reins, increasing pace to head straight for the castle.