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He was on a nearby island, whittling a chunk of wood inside of the rough log cabin that had become his home over the last few years of being shipwrecked. He had long since come to terms with the fact that nobody was coming to rescue him, and the royal house he had served was most likely destroyed.

Zarrin gave the armored man a smile and then led the group on the short walk up to the manor house, his armed men falling in behind them, maintaining a respectful distance.

Various townsfolk glanced their way as the group of adventurers were escorted toward the manor. But if one of Zarrin's armed men happened to glance their direction, they would quickly dip their head and continue about their business. A small boy looked down from a second story window, but was pulled back by someone inside and curtains drawn quickly.

As they entered the house, Zarrin directed them to a sizable dining room with an extensive mahogany table and chandeliers hanging above both ends. The walls consisted of chalky portraits of pale men and women with beady eyes.

Zarrin stepped away from the others and pulled aside one of his men. Keeping his voice lowered so that the adventurers could not hear, he said quickly, "Ensure they do not go wandering off on their own. We'll play the gracious host and send them on their way as soon as we can. And they'll be none the wiser for it."

Returning to the table, he took a seat at the head, smiling politely at them once again. "Bring ale and fare for our guests," he commanded a brown haired servant girl who nodded and hurried off.

"Are you planning to stay long?" he asked as they waited for the food to arrive.

Josh looked at the towns folk, then turned away. The dressed man was whispering to someone, maybe himself. Odd, he thought. Then he took out the stone he was using earlier, he took a good look at it and put it back in his pocket.

Bethany looked around, already intensely bored with the hustle and bustle of people around her and the group. "Kan vi gå nu? Do we leave?" Her stomach growled as she thought about the fish back on the boat.

The Hanged Man followed Zarrin through the streets, his eyes ever moving. This town had a strange, nervous energy. On several occasions he saw the villagers hurrying away or averting their eyes, but was that because of Zarrin? Or the large party of strangers making their way down the boulevard?

The manorhouse was no castle, but nonetheless far nicer than the surrounding town. That much the knight expected. The world was full of such disparities. He walked with a practiced limp and sat down near the middle of the table, unsure who would deign to sit beside him. He glanced at Bethany and shook his head. "Nay. Food first."

The cleric observed the undercurrent of fear among the locals and was unsure exactly what to make of it. Could the island community be in a state of war or was there some power struggle going on due to the Constable's infirmity? The people here were in some regular degree of contact with the mainland so she could not believe the arrival of the Elfleda alone could cause this much anxiety. But if she thought it all rather strange, she tactfully said nothing and pretended to neither notice or care.

She took a seat at the table beside Josh and across from the Hanged Man and Bethany.

"Are you planning to stay long?" Zarrin asked.

Galiena glanced around at the others, as if expecting one of them to answer the question. When no one did, she shook her head. "Not long. I think I heard the captain say they'd just deliver a few supplies and then restock with some extra provisions before we continue westward. Lord Rolf is hoping we might find more islands like Avery's Isle to settle."

Her answer seemed to put Zarrin at ease. "Excellent."

Within another few minutes, a few servants brought out ale and lunch for the guests. Nothing particularly fancy since there hadn't been much time to prepare... bread, cheese, and a fish stew.

Alavara stared in surprise at the clear lack of manners offered by the greeters. This was something Varis and Theren were easily able to shake off having had dealt with humans and those of 'lesser status' in the past, but something Alavara herself was rather new to. She bit her tongue only long enough for the offer of a meal to reach her ears.

'That's more like it,' Alavara thought to herself, exchanging a glance with each of her guards. The feast would be glorious, something she was absolutely prepared for considering her past three days on the Elfleda. She assumed the immediate offer of the meal was simply an exchange of the order in welcoming, certainly the offer of tribute would be waiting for her and her at this manor. Even lowly humans knew to offer an Elven noble some kind of gift upon arriving from so far away.

The walk through town was nothing spectacular for Alavara, thinking ahead only to the meal in taste and setting that was more like something she would be used to. Varis and Theren however were the ones to notice the...odd behavior of the townsfolk. Varis looked up to see a boy snatched from a window, then closed immediately. Only then to meet the eyes of a stranger who then quickly looked away, donning his hood and walking off quickly. Theren's observations would be more of the same until they met the manor.

Alavara was a little disappointed upon entering the hosting chamber, while it was likely an incredible setting to those of this lands, to her it was not quite up to the standards of a welcoming feast. She shrugged it off, rolling her eyes and attributing it to a combination of their humanity and their poverty. Theren and Varis, however bid no ill will towards the settings, seeing them as well met as any human establishment. They knew Elves had a bit more of a flair for introductions, decoration, and traditions than those of non Elven descent, nobility aside even.

Varis intentionally landed himself next to the poor looking man who so kindly offered to assist Alavara out of the boat, leaving Alavara right on his other side and Theren taking up Alavara's flank. It was hard to tell if it was pure luck that they landed in a row like this, or if the others had been more deliberate in their attempts to either avoid the Elf trio, or allow them to be seated together, as they clearly were.

All three overlooked the sidespeaking of the greeter, even if they hadn't, it would have been attributed to last minute scheduling or resolving of what was certainly an expected dinner. The three sat in silent observance, Varis notably at least once glancing to the man next to him again in an apologetic way for the rude behavior Alavara had offered him, but verbalizing nothing. It was shortly thereafter the food arrived.

Alavara couldn't contain her disappointment any longer after receiving the fish stew. She picked the stew up and was able to detect its aroma well before bringing it to her face. She tossed the entire bowl down in front of her, not spilling it entirely, but definitely losing a bit on the sides.

"What is this?" Alavara asked pointedly to the greeter, with fierce eyes. "This is the welcoming feast?? There are no servants to maintain our items," she gestured to her silver staff, still next to her now leaning against the table, "....and I'm a willing to guess-"

"This is not the house of Yllatris, nor any Elven court for that matter, Vall," Varis interrupted her, speaking in a stern tone in Elvish to avoid the embarassment of the kind of lecture he was giving her. He leaned in closer, now speaking much softer in his elven tongue "It is best to fit into your surroundings to avoid becoming a target."

The Hanged Man didn't take his gloves off to eat, an idiosyncrasy that may be noticed by those sitting near him. He clasped both hands around the warm bowl of stew, allowing the heat to seep into him for several long moments before beginning to eat. He was interrupted, however, by Alavara's outburst. His nicked brows rose high, and he returned Varis's look with one that wasn't quite incredulous--he knew well the fickleness of the highborn, after all. The grizzled warrior said nothing to either of them, and instead turned his attention to Zarrin to see how he would react. Hangman still didn't fully trust him.

The huntress took meager portions of everything. The ale agreed to the stranger of stiff drinks, and the fish stew had a good taste from what the elven noble left. She sat herself in a far off corner, content to eat in peace..and perhaps be cut off by a servant from pouring the ale into her small drinking horn she produced from a loop on her belt. She didn't know why, but the servant was clear about refusing to fill an ox horn tube of liquor. (Yes, I thought a giant horn would be funny.)
As she forced herself to at least eat off a knife, her ears listened to her surroundings, the elves body language and tone reminded her of a mother bird keeping a chick far away from the den of a bird eating spider. Something may be amiss, but she didn't bother holding her guard up. She was hungry, the food was good, and she was content.

Zarrin's mouth tightened at the elf's overt display of her displeasure at the meal, but put a forced smile on his face. "I apologize if the meal is not to your liking... ah ... Avara. Had I known you were coming, there would have been time to prepare a more fitting feast. Perhaps this evening I can offer you something more suitable."

He was obviously trying to placate her, but left it unclear whether his use of the word 'you' applied only to the elven noble or to the entire company. In truth though, their arrival should not have been completely unexpected. In fact, the weather had been so good, they had arrived nearly precisely on schedule.

And there really was a minimal number of servants around... just a few kitchen maids. One of which, a young blonde woman in her late teens, who was setting down a bowl in front of Josh, flinched noticeably when the elven noble dropped her bowl and complained. Her eyes widened, fear written over her features, looking as if she might burst into tears at any moment, then quickly lowered her gaze, set down Josh's stew and hurried back to the kitchen.

"Alavara!", she scolded Zarrin, interrupting his words at the moment he finished butchering her name. She pronounced her name slowly and enunciated it carefully so there would be no mistake on how exactly it was said. As she spoke she placed her hands on the table leaning towards him in a slightly aggressive manner before throwing herself back in the chair glaring at him for the rest of his words.

Theren and Varis both glared at Zarrin as well once he had finished. They weren't certain what he meant by 'something more suitable tonight,' but in their experience this could be viewed as a terribly inappropriate come on. Of course not knowing for sure they kept their mouths shut, which was just as well. Alavara seemed to not notice the possible offer and instead focused on what he had said otherwise.

"Do you mean to tell me a Noble High Elf boards a ship that you are expecting and word does not reach your ears that we are coming? I find the incompetence impossible to believe!" she wrenched her staff into her hand and slammed it onto the floor as she stood up. A loud popping noise could be heard as she did, accompanied by a soft blast outward which was soft enough not to disturb the place settings on the table, but strong enough anyone nearby could feel it.

Alavara turned and walked into the door she had seen the maid retreat into, clearly they would need the competent guidance of a high elf, and she was going to see to it they were handled properly.

"Vall....Vall, wait," Varis called after her as he stood and chased after her. Theren simply sat stunned. Even for Alavara this was shocking, but she did make a good point. He remained seated, simply turning his head to Zarrin as he regained his neutral look.

He stood up, looking over to Avery's Isle, squinting and seeing a ship in the dock/harbor, deciding to try and leave the island again. He walked over to the wreckage of his old ship, having pulled the pieces up chunk by chunk over the course of a few months. He fashioned a small raft/rowboat from the driest timbers, lashing them together and setting course towards Avery's Isle.

The burst of magic was very suprising to the huntress. Why do such a thing? Bethany watched the noble try to hunt down the-

Bethany was on her feet in a blink, and had her unstrung bow in her hand already. Her footsteps carried the weight of a prowling cat, as the noise was on par. She followed the second elf with silent steps, ignoring the odd glances that everyone gave the hooded and armed huntress.

A bit after he finished the raft and headed out, a storm rolled in as he made his way towards the island. The waters turned choppy as his small raft was tossed around through the waves, ripping it to shreds.

"You see that? Something washed up on the beach over there."

" 'at a person, ya think, Red?" Oscar asked, holding up a hand over his eyes to shade them from the sun and squinting toward Henrik's form.

The trio approached the still form, not yet realizing the man still lived. "Looks like he's wearing armor. Nice stuff too. Wonder where he came from? That other ship toss 'im overboard, ya think?"

"Mebbe, mebbe," says the third, using his foot to flip Henrik face up once they got close. "I bet that'd fit me jus fine. He got anything else on him?" he said aloud, kneeling down to start checking for weapons or any other valuables.


(Will get a post in for the other scene hopefully soon!)

He groaned, coughing up water, a ring of keys and jewled dagger on his belt, as well as a dirk inside of his boot.

The two armed men positioned outside the dining area appeared quickly when they heard raised voices and Alavara's staff slamming into the floor. One even looked ready to head into the kitchen after the two elves and the huntress, but paused and then backed off again when Zarrin signaled with the palm of his hand and a slight shake of his head.

Beyond the door is a short hallway that leads to a kitchen where 3 maids all turn to look as the adventurers enter the room. One is the young blonde woman from a few moments before. She shares a strong resemblance to the second, older woman, leaving little doubt they are mother/daughter. The third appears somewhere between them in age with no family resemblance.

Zarrin cleared his throat and looked around at the others, recollecting himself and attempting to smooth things over, "My apologies. The Constable did mention you were coming and I failed to ask when. With this sickness going around, I'm afraid my mind has been on other things."

---

"Well, he's alive, ain't this a surprise!" Drugo exclaimed when the man coughed up some water. But that didn't stop him from pulling the dagger from Henrik's belt and turning it over in his hand, giving a low whistle at the inlaid jewels.

"Think he's someone important?" Oscar asked the other two. "What should we do wit 'im?"

"Best let Zarrin decide...." said Red, producing a length of rope with the intention of binding Henrik's hands. "Alright, up with you now, com'on," he says, nudging Henrik with his foot. "Hands forward...just til we figure out what ta do with ya."

He tried to stand up, a shard of driftwood embedded into his leg, his skin raw and torn. He fell back to the ground, a weak moan coming out of his mouth as he fell with a thud. His mouth was as dry and cracked as sandpaper, as he rasped out an unintelligible sentence.

"Almost dead though," comments Drugo to the other two. "Ain't no one would know if we just helped him 'long a little. Keep this pretty knife he's got."

"Best not," says Red, reaching down to grab Henrik's arm and motioning Oscar to get his other side. "You know Zarrin's got a way of finding out 'bout things." It seemed like the rope might not be necessary after all. The man wasn't likely to be going anywhere without help. The pair hauled him up again, each supporting one side so that they could carry or drag him and started making their way slowly away from the shore. Drugo fell in behind and slipped the jeweled dagger into his own belt.

Depending on how out of sorts Henrik is, he may or may not notice they are on the western side of the island and there is a ship harbored here in a small cove. The Elfleda is harbored on the eastern side of the island.

He mumbled something as they carried him, speaking in a harsh and sharp language with lots of grunts and hissing sounds. He grabbed Red's wrist, gripping it as tightly as he could while in the delirious state, which was just enough to leave a mark.