taking the meal's offerings and stuffed himself silly. Yet he shivers at Malkala's concern, as if in recognition, so much so that his mind is playing games with him. "I thought it was... just the mead," he responds, speaking sluggishly while fighting back a stomachache. His digitgrade feet shudder in place. "She sure seemed like an elf... What a gem she was!"

His mind attempts to remember the robed figure's face and her sharp, angled features. All he remembers, however, were her emerald hair, eyes and skin, otherworldly and beautiful to look at, swirling like the most blissful drink.

His eyes a the longing daydreaming sight as he and Malkala follow the guards to their bedchambers for the night. It takes a stern look from Malkala, one which you never want to see from a dragonborne, for Zrak to regain some lucidity in their conversation. "Oh, ah... She wasn't supposed to be there, was she?" His feet pit and pat along the manor's floor in compliment with the roaring storm outside.

A brief, perceptive moment takes his mind and mouth toward his companion. "No one else saw her either, did they?"

Zrak tries to remember the figure and the people around her. Unfortunately for him, the mead leaves his mind so muddy that he can barely keep his feet moving. All he remembers is the figure's eyes boring right into his.

However, Malkala nods at his question, "You are correct. No one looked at her, spoke to her, or even tried to touch her. It was as if she didn't exist." Her clawed hand rubs at her notebook, closed in her other hand, "But if that is the case, why reveal herself to us? She could have just observed."

Her voice trails off a bit as the guard escorting them finally stops at the last room to the right. They open the door and wave the pair inside.

The room is beautiful. Four beds sit near each corner of the room, with a dresser sitting on the south wall, the wall directly across from the pair. On the dresser is an oil lamp currently burning, leaving the room with a warm hue despite its dark green wallpaper. Potted plants sit directly at each corner, with a brass brazier shaped like a sleeping red dragon at the east wall.

Just like the halls, entering the room reveals a scent of cinnamon, and both adventurers feel relaxed and warm, warmer than what the lamp should have been able to provide. It is as if entering the room helped salve all worries and pain, allowing for peaceful rest.

Malkala takes off her backpack and sets it next to one of the beds, "This is a wonderful room. Very relaxing and comfortable." Her eyes immediately starts looking along the walls and floor, as if studying them, trying to find something. But after a few minutes she shakes her head, "There isn't any magical spell or item either. Somehow, Lady Aldori found a way to get this room to relax its guests without magic."

Following Malkala, Zrak takes off his backpack, relatively smaller than his companion's, and sits it next to one of the silver and crimson-laden beds. With his... un-pristine hands, he presses down upon the soft and plushy mattress. "Now why don't they use these at all the inns?" he loudly and playfully mutters. The inebriation has yet to go away, but the worst of it is now passing by.

Amid the oil lamp's light, Zrak's body shades with a dark red, like a dangerous predator in the sunset, even as he is small, calm, and overly harmless in this beautifully-made room. "I'm so used to living out in tents and makeshift homes. Is this what it's like to rule with land?" A sly smile appears across his rodent-shaped head, sharp teeth gutting out, as if deliciously imagining his whole family living like this.

Zrak checks one of the nearby doors, revealing a small bathroom and strange, half-cylinder container made of ceramic. What in the world is that-

Oh! That's supposed to be a bathtub.

"Guess we ought to wash up, as pa always says," he comments with a chuckle. The Ysoki removes his cloaked hood, revealing his light brown furred head, decorated in a number of dried scars. His removal of armor reveals a shockingly muscled body for his kind, as if rigorously training throughout his time in Numeria. "So what's the plan, Malkala?" Zrak's husky voice comes across the room as he puts his stuff next to the bed before walking to the bathroom. "I bet it's gonna be a long day tomorrow."

Zrak hears papers slide and rustle. "Honestly, I am not entirely sure what is going to happen, so I can't really come up with a plan right now. But, I have some ideas."

She pulls out a map from her backpack and spreads it over the dresser, "I figure Lady Aldori is going to give us a specific area to explore and conquer. So, we could make up some plans based on where we may be going. For instance, we may be going into the Greenbelt, which is a forest and swamp kind of area. Or we may go into the Tor of Levenies, which is pretty much all mountains."

She takes out an inkwell and pen, "It also depends on what the task is. I'm sure we are going to have to clear the area of whatever monsters are there."

"Which, speaking of. I don't think we've ever seen each other fight. Or even talked about it."

Zrak turns his head and gives Malkala a quizzical look. "Thought we went over this already." There's an uncomfortable pause, and the distinct feeling from Zrak that Malkala is, once again, not impressed. Or is that just the remnants of the mead in his head? Bah, not worth worrying about.

Turning around, the Ysoki walks back to his bed and pulls out the weapon. Malkala gets a better look of it in his hands, seeing the sturdy rope holding a metal ball on one end and the old dagger on the other. "My family always liked making unusual items," he explains, admiring it like a blacksmith with their finest blade. "We were barbarians, but we often designed things you don't see outside of Numeria. One of my ancestors had something like this from some far off-land."

Finding an open space in the room, Zrak motions one bone-thin hand close to the dagger end and the other to the rope, letting the ball end hang and swing. With a few, momentous twirls, he spins the ball end around like a propeller. The idle air rushes around the swinging object in a show of its weight and strength. "I was taught how to use this so I could deal with those using bows and bolts. It's a nice thing when you can't just run in and-" He gives a big smile, revealing his sharp incisors once more to Malkala, filed down to pierce through muscle and bone. "-Bite 'em."

With a proud smile across his rodent snout, Zrak puts his weapon back. "So I'm happy to run in and bite down on whoever we face. What about you?"

Malkala motions to her blade, which is now leaning against the bed's headrest, "I am someone who fights in melee as well. Lady Aldori was kind enough to enroll me in an Aldori Dueling Academy, and helped train me. I cannot take the Aldori name yet, but I hope establishing a kingdom will allow me the Aldori name. But, I'm digressing. Along with the Aldori dueling style, I have also trained in commanding people in combat. With that, I can support my allies or hinder my enemies. When that doesn't work, though," she pats the side with her pistol, "I have a pistol and a deringer. Not exactly aligned with the swordlord training, but it can be very useful."

She snorts at that comment. Then, she starts rummaging in her bags, "Last thing, is that I can mix potions, elixirs, mutagens, and other alchemical items." She pulls out a small vial of a light red liquid. Around the lip of the vial is a label reading "Elixir Life, Min." "I mainly focus on healing and support items, but can make a variety of things."

Leaning forward, eyeing the red liquid in the vial, Zrak gives a curious smile to his companion. "Ah yeah, I did notice you lugging around all those vials and potions. Well with that and commanding, I think we'll be just fine." He gives another toothy smile to her. "I ain't much for tactics, so a little direction won't hurt!"

With that, he heads back to the bathroom, ready to wash up and get a good night's sleep. "Looking forward to the morning!" he shouts with the sound of rushing water into the bathtub.

Malkala smirks as she sets the maps aside and opens up her notebook. Without another word, she starts writing in it while she lies in bed. Whenever Zrak walks by her, he can hear her muttering under her breath. She starts by planning out possible routes on the map, then she moves to writing out alchemical formula ideas, before she finally falls asleep, notebook still open on her chest, pen in hand.

Zrak comes out of the steam-filled bathroom when Malkala is well into her note-taking. His light brown fur and well-defined muscles, for Ysoki, are in full view as he walks over to his bed and grabs some of the spare clothes on his backpack. A minute passes before he's in a rustic, heavy cloth suit, with clearly-woven fibers and a complete lack of symbols or color tones. He liked wearing this sleeping outfit wherever he went to rest, as he is so used to wearing it during the Numerian nights. It keeps dirt, dust and sand off him, perfect for his home, even if not for this particular room.

He spends the remainder of his waking hours making sure the room is secure for the night: doors closed and windows shut, just like checking for predators before sleeping in the wilderness. His rodent snout sniffs the air several times, still admiring the scent of cinnamon, before noticing Malkala falling asleep in her bed.

She really is a hard workers, more so than he's ever been.

Following suit, the Ysoki leans up on his bony toes to turn off the oil lamp, drenching the room in a black darkness with only minute flashes of lightning outside. With fatigue setting in, Zrak leaps up to the bed and slides under the blanket. Its soft, plushy material puts his muscles at ease, as he shuts his eyes and gets some much-needed rest.

It was not hard for either Zrak or Malkala to fall asleep. The feast, table companions, and excitement for the future wearing on the mind and body. Dreams came quick and stayed for a long time. Time passes by without event.

Until about three o'clock in the morning.

Zrak, still dreaming of the future, hears a sound. He jerks awake, still a bit groggy from the deep sleep, but something in the back of his mind tells him that something was wrong. Thinking back on the sound, he realizes what it was: a cry of pain, suddenly cut off. As if someone was just killed outside of the pair's room.

He quickly looks to see Malkala still asleep, not having moved an inch from her original position. It is obvious she had not heard the cry. Either that, or hasn't realized what it was.

Even under the blanket, Zrak's body shivers, as if convulsing from an assassin's dagger while he slept. He sniffs with his snout, smelling the same cinnamon as ever. No one had entered their room, but inevitably, someone or something stalks the halls and rooms when they shouldn't, and it is right outside of their room. And it is what kicks his instincts awake. He kicks the blanket off him, sending it up as if some spectacle to watch, and leaps off the bed to where his armor rest, and his weapon attached to the back. Putting on the studded leather armor is nothing more than sliding it on like a coat and snapping its joints together.

A part of him has a mind to explore the sound on his own, leave Malkala be to sleep, and explain why he's a bloody mess in the morning.

The other part of him said that no Ysoki should ever split from their companions.

In a hurry and leaving his cloak behind, Zrak climbs up on Malkala's bed, then remembers never to shake a warrior awake; he'll find a claw on his neck if he does so. Instead, he whispers in her ear. "Wake up, wake up!" His voice isn't that of a higher being, granting some divine warning to their follower, but more of a scarred serpent; and deep in her slumber, Malkala is likely adverse to listen to snakes. What does one say to awaken her? Then an idea comes, forming as words evocative of a nightmare:

"I think Lady Aldori was attacked."

At Zrak's whispers, Malkala jerks awake, her hand immediately shooting toward her blade. After a second, her senses clear and she sees Zrak armored and ready to fight. Without any more hesitation, she starts donning her own armor, slipping the coat over her and strapping some leather pieces at various vital points.

"What did you hear or see?" She asks, finishing her straps and drawing her dueling sword.

Through that, and even though she doesn't know what is going on, Zrak can see her mind racing, devising plans and constructing possible responses, as if she was about to lead an army into battle.

A light clashing of teeth echoes out of Zrak's incisors, a nervous and anxious chatter before a violent confrontation, as he leaps off Malkala's bed. "There was a scream of pain, right outside our door. They might charge in our room, or wait for us to leave." It's a bit of a leap for him to suggest Lady Aldori herself is just outside their room; Malkala can probably determine that Zrak put out that poor excuse of a lie just to wake her up.

Without a plan, or even a lot of information, Zrak quickly tip-toes on his thin bony feet to the other side of the door, resting next to the hinges, where one will not see him when they open and enter.

He sees his best chance as to surprise their incoming foe, provided Malkala does not have a notably different tactic in mind.

Malkala studies Zrak's actions for a few seconds, her mind running at full speed. She then nods, draws her blade, and takes position at the other side of the door, waiting for whatever comes next.

Over the next half a minute, the pair do not hear anything. Then, from the other side of the door, they hear the near silent footfalls of a pair of people. Zrak sees Malkala start calming down, focusing on the battle that