"Do you still think my job is fancy?" Rose asked, chuckling lightly despite everything. This was, broadly speaking, a normal day for her. She didn't always get into back ally fights, and there were days--weeks, even--where she didn't battle anyone at all, but if you were to look at her year, and calculate what an 'average' day looked like, it was something like this. It was the nature of her work--she would be sent into old ruins taken over by bandit clans, or she would be sent into a coven of witches. Not the cool 'love the earth, reject societal norms' kind of witches, the kind who actually did have malicious intent, or she would be sent off into some other catastrophe.

She took a sip of water, not bothering to wipe off the mouth piece--disease couldn't pass from humans to elves anyway--and followed him to the mage's door. It was simple and unadorned, and not one she would have thought to knock on. Not because of the area, or because it seemed simple, but because there was nothing indicating the inhabitant knew anything about the arcane (although, to be fair, there was nothing suggesting they didn't, either), so if she came to this place at all, without being directed, it would be a simple coincidence.

After confirming they were outside the right place, Rose knocked on the door and waited for a few moments. When nobody answered, she knocked and waited again. After the third time, she turned the door handle, and pushed open the door with a low, quiet creak.
 
As he started walking Rose made what felt like a passive-aggressive comment asking if he still thought her job was fancy. His answer to that was yes but he didn’t say anything in response so he wouldn’t provoke her. This was a very weird coincidence, and he was sure she didn’t go through situations like that very often. He wasn’t sure what point she was trying to make but it wasn’t coming through to him. He still thought she was living better than him and the comment felt like pity to prove her life was hard too. To him, it just showed arrogance, but she wouldn’t need him much longer so he just stayed silent. He would listen and follow her until he was no longer required.

He kept walking down the alleyway that got darker and darker as they went until they eventually arrived at the mage’s door. It was simple and undecorated. The door was the same mood as the alleyway dismal, dark, and gloomy. Rose stepped ahead of him and lightly knocked on the door and got no response. He was already on edge and just because he knew where the shop was did not mean he had beent there before. And recently being attacked did not help ease his nerves about this place or the sketchy alleyway in general.

After getting no response to the first knock, Rose tried again, this time knocking harder, and waited a few moments. No response. She tried one last time but after no response, she twisted the door handle and invited herself in.

Upon entering his eyes adjusted to the dim lighting of candles. The shop was small and cluttered with things everywhere. Crates laid on the ground and bookshelves lined with jars sat against the wall and candles were in various places to light the room. At the back was a counter with a glass front displaying various items. Behind the counter was another shelf holding more bottles. He followed Rose deeper into the shop stepping over crates and books strewn around the room. He was being careful not to get too close to the walls as the dusty picture frames looked like they could fall at any moment.
 
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The light was dim, but Rose could see as though it were bright. She walked amongst the crates and books, and made her way to the counter. She rang the bell on the counter. Still there was no response. "It seems nobody is home," Rose hummed. There were artifacts in the glass counter, but after a cursory glance, she deemed none were particularly dangerous. She called out, and upon having nobody call back, she hopped over the dusty counter, and invited herself into the backroom.

Nobody was there, and it seemed to have been empty for quite sometime. Rose turned to Brant, who was still on the other side of the counter, "Come over here," she said, "Let's get fixed up while we have the time." She spoke casually, but her veins burned and her fingers were cold. She looked around the shop. There were no windows behind the counter or in the back room, so if they sat on the ground, nobody who peeked into the shop would be able to see them.

While she waited for Brant to make his way over, Rose picked up various potions from the shelf; she read the labels if they had them, but otherwise she'd open the lids and spell the potion, using her right arm as little as possible. Most she set back down, but some she set onto the counter.
 
When he stepped into the shop Rose went ahead and carefully stepped over the garbage on the floor. She told him to follow her, so she could help fix him up. And without worry or fear, she walked up to the dusty glass counter and rang the cracked dusty bell as he followed directly behind her. He was practically touching her back because he was so close to her. He was eager to get help, but it felt weird to go through the shop while the owner wasn’t around.

After she rang the bell. He patiently waited for tending by someone, but no one ever did. They sat in front of the counter in complete silence. He hesitated and started to turn around to go back but instead of falling back, Rose pushed forward. No windows were behind the counter, so no one would see them. Rose took this opportunity and went behind the counter. And he saw beyond the counter which went to what he assumed was storage.

He tried to move as silently as he could to go to the back area with Rose. He quietly followed her back behind the counter and when he made it to the other side she was taking potions from various shelves and opening them and reading the labels. Some she took and others she put back in their places. Now they were trespassing but also stealing. He made his way closer to her, stepping over more things to make it. When he finally made it, he felt safe and relieved. He went to the closest wall and slid down until he was sitting on the wooden floor.
 
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"These bottles are covered in dust," Rose said, noticing the look on Brant's face, "whoever they belong to are not likely to miss them." After gathering what she felt necessary, she came and sat beside Brant and set the bottles on the ground. She then removed her cloak, and using her left hand, pulled her medical supplies from her various pockets. Then she removed her bracers and her shirt so she could get a better look at her arm. She didn't want to just roll up her sleeve, because she didn't want to push anything over the wound, and she also wasn't particularly thrilled about the idea of cutting one sleeve off, so pulling her shirt off felt like the only option, and it wasn't like she had any use for modesty in her line of work.

She poured some of the contents of one bottle over her hands, and the more of it into the wound, and if the look on her face was any indication, it stung. Then she opened one of the other potions and took a swig of it, before taking some of her own dried herbs--the same type she heated over the fire the night before--and crushed them into her wound. They weren't at their most potent used like she had, but it was the most she could do with what she had. As she worked on herself, Rose took no heed of Brant. The dim light revealed the multitude of scars on her arms and torso, and judging by the look on her face, it did not phase her this new wound was bound to join the tapestry.

With the third bottle she took, she dampened the bandages, and she murmured, "Rinna i galad," as she wrapped them around her arm. Whatever poison was on the dagger must have been at least partially neutralized by the potions and herbs; Rose wiggled her fingers, and already feeling was returning to them, but she knew as long as the blade fragment remained in her arm, she was not cured. Still... she did not trust herself to root about in it and pull it out. Or rather, she didn't trust Brant to pull it out--if their situations were reversed, and he had the fragment inside of him, she knew she could just have him bite down on something and quickly find it, but she presumed his hands were clumsy.... Well, untrained, but when it came to searching for something in a wound, it felt the same.

Her lip still bled, but there wasn't much she could do about it, and she wasn't concerned. It was a minor wound at most, and hadn't been poisoned, so she turned to Brant, and began cleaning up his injuries, "Róvhi naeg," she whispered as she passed the cloth over his face, and after doing what she could for his wounds, she sat back against the counter.

"You should feel better quickly," Rose sighed, "they might hurt, but at the end of the day, your wounds aren't serious." She stretched her right arm, and glanced around the shop. Hopefully there would be a document or a clue here, leading her closer to the shield, or at least something explaining the daggers. She had a sinking feeling she was not the only one in Oderfeld seeking it.
 
As soon he started resting Rose started talking again. She was explaining that since the bottles were dusty they wouldn't be missed. It was weird she thought dust decreased the value of something. Maybe she was so used to always having new things that as soon as things were remotely dysfunctional or dusty she could just throw them out and replace them? After she grabbed a few more bottles off the shelf she removed her cloak grabbing more medical equipment from various pockets. He watched as she set the various bottles on the ground then started removing the bracer around her arm. After that, he saw her start to pull up her shirt, and as soon as she got past the waist he looked away. Not enough to be unable to see anything but enough to not see Rose stripping in front of him.

He looked down through his hand to see what she was doing without actually seeing anything. Once she finished, she added the shirt to the pile of things next to her. When she finished, she took one of the bottles, uncorked it, and put some of the contents on her hand. The jerk her hand made told him it wasn’t comfortable. He saw her put the bottle down and pick up another. This time he couldn’t see what, was happening and only saw it a little more empty when she put it down. He saw her arm and saw scars everywhere. Some you could tell were the effect of deep wounds others looked like they could have been scratches that scared. But it was hard to tell since he was looking through his fingers and also trying to look down as much as he could.

When she finished with that she took another bottle and some bandages. After a few moments, he saw the end of a wet bandage cloth and knew she was dosing the bandage in the medicine. He saw her arm go in a circular motion and knew she was wrapping it. But as she wrapped it, she said a word from a different language. He guessed in Elvish. He saw her wiggle her fingers from the corner of his eye and he knew her medicine worked which was a relief. He wasn’t sure of her damages but if she was wiggling her fingers he assumed something those bandits did paralyzed her fingers or her hand. He impatiently waited for her to help him, but he didn't want to say anything because it might sound whiney. But he couldn't exactly tell her how he felt by looking at her unless he wanted to see something else.

After she had finished, she helped clean him up. She took the rag and wiped his face as she said another elven word. She really did her best to help clean up his wounds. They still looked gnarly but at least they felt better and were clean. And if they were clean, that meant no infection.

“You should feel better quickly, they might hurt, but at the end of the day, your wounds aren't serious,” She said while she stretched her arms and gave a nervous glance around the shop. He slumped a little lower until he heard the footsteps coming from the back storage area causing him to shoot up. He had enough drama for today and didn’t want any more problems. But none came. All that came out of the back was an old lady with a really bad arch in her back and greying hair. She looked at me and Rose and he flushed remembering that A) they were on the wrong side B) They just took stuff without paying and C) Rose was topless. She looked at us and shouted in the loudest voice she could “what are you doing here? And why is she topless and why is there my shit all over the floor? ”He panicked not knowing what to say and stayed quiet.
 
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"We apologize," Rose said, sighing, and holding her hands up to show she held no weapons, "We meant no harm." Rose was genuine, but deep down, she was annoyed. She had done all of her checks like she was supposed to, she knocked, she called out, she rang the bell, she examined the shop--everything was dusty, and nothing looked like it had been moved in at least five years. Anyone would have come to the conclusion the shop had been abandoned. The fact it wasn't vexed her.

Slowly, she stood up, keeping her hands up. She didn't move to cover herself because she didn't want the old woman to think she was reaching for a weapon, "My companion and I found ourselves in an altercation, and we needed a hidden place t'treat our wounds. I am a ranger from the South, and have come t'Oderfeld on a mission of grave importance, and I fear others have come t'seek the same object. If you are a friend t'my order, or an enemy to the shadow, you would be wise not t'hinder us."

She glanced at her right arm and swore under her breath. Already she could see specks of blood making it through the bandages, "I am Rose Naurlireth," she continued, "I've been poisoned, and did not have the right herbs to treat it myself, and I feared I didn't have the time for someone t'return. Even yet I've not been cured, because a fragment of the poisoned blade resides still within my arm, and bandages won't be enough t'stop the bleeding."

Rose couldn't tell if she said enough to be convincing, but she stood calmly and proudly, and did not avoid looking the elderly woman in her eyes. She was a human, her bowed back was enough to reveal that, even if all other signs were hidden, and so Rose hoped if her tale and urgency did not move her, the old woman would at least have respect for the Elder race, and let her pass as she would. The elven race only diminished with the years, and lived now only as a relic of what once had been. Some humans cared little for this, some were saddened by it, and some feared the remnant of the elves--and the light in their eyes.
 
Seeing the woman in front of him was a surprise and based on Rose's facial expression she was equally as confused as he was. Rose held her hands up to show the older woman that she wasn't armed and he followed suit. He fixed his slouch against the wall and sat straight up fearing the older woman would attack if she felt threatened. He wanted to prepare himself if she did. He raised his hands and shifted his position, so she could see both his hands clearly. She didn’t look like a threat but he had to keep his guard up.

The old woman looked irritated and Rose explaining their reasoning for being in the store did nothing to improve her mood. She thought just because she was a ranger the owner would forgive them for breaking in and stealing. Her arrogance was soon going to get them into trouble by irritating the woman further. He started eyeing the exits in case they had to make a quick getaway and started to quickly and quietly scoot closer to Rose so he could get her attention. Continuing to move he picked up items laying on the floor and slipped them into his pockets.

He could see her pain and could see the blood seeping through her shirt but they couldn't do anything about it now. All he could do was keep scooting forward and keep grabbing items that Rose left on the floor. He was only a few feet away from her when he started moving a little slower so the woman wouldn't notice him. He grabbed the last item closest to him and ended up right next to Rose's leg.

Brant wasn’t paying attention to the conversation between her and the shopkeeper but when he was next to her leg he listened in. He heard the woman telling them to leave in a harsh voice. He knew how important it was for Rose to be here. He knew how much she needed the Mage and now that they knew she was here; He felt it was important to help Rose. He slowly stood up with his hands still in the air and started talking.¨We're sorry for intruding. We had no idea anyone was here, and we needed to clean up. But now that we know your here can you please spare us and help us with some questions we have?¨” he pleaded.
 
Rose furrowed her eyebrows when the woman refused to listen to her. She was standing there in front of her bruised, bleeding, and scarred, and had identified herself as a member of the organization which stretched back to before the days of humans, and wanted only to take a moment to rest and fix her wounds so she would not succumb to poison before being able to find the shield which (should it fall into the wrong hands) could spell disaster not only for Oderfeld, but the whole of the North--at best.

She dropped her hands to the side and inhaled sharply. It seemed with each year humans cared less for her kind, and less still for the work of her order. Few could understand the costs the end of the Rangers would bring. Rose had hoped this woman, old as she seemed to be, would understand, but it was clear she was as small-minded and near-sighted as most humans she met recently. And yes, of course she tried not to be prejudiced against the young race, but it was difficult when throughout the four centuries of her life, she had seen her people dwindle and the rangers be treated like little more than common criminals. It wasn't their fault, she knew this, humans were brief-flames--they grew and sickened and died while the elves born in the same year were still only in their youth. Humans could not comprehend how elves endured through the years unwithered, some being older than even some human cities. But their kingdoms had fallen and so culturally, humans deemed they had won the war, and therefore the earth was in their keeping. It no longer belonged to the elves. And, to an extent, elves couldn't help their view of humans: to Rose, even the eldest of them was like a child to her. Earlier in that year, she had met a 108 year-old man--a marvel by the account of his town, impossibly old--but he had lived for less than a quarter of her life, and she was still young for an elf. It had been centuries since she had met a human older than her. It wasn't even that Rose hated humans. On the contrary, she loved them. If she didn't, she would not work so hard to keep the world safe for them, she would join up with one of the bands of elves seeking to flee across the sea, or with one of the bands desiring to raise Elvendom from the ashes, but instead she worked for the good of all. And still she was turned away as she bled for them.

"Spare us?" Rose asked, flatly, in response to Brant's plea, "What do you think she will do? Turn us into something unnatural?" She looked back at the woman, and gazed at her silently for a few moments. Then she said, "Let her, if that be her desire, and she wants not t'aid those who come to the defense of her people. If she turns away the wounded, I doubt she will grant us any information she knows," Her eyes narrowed and burned, "Prove me wrong, if you will, I hope t'be wrong." Without breaking eye contact, Rose reached into the pockets of her pants, and threw down the few coins she had onto the counter, "Payment. If your city turns to ash, remember you refused us."

Of course Rose wanted to know if the woman would answer any of her questions, and of course she still thought she might have some knowledge on the subject, but she was not in the mood to play games. If this woman wanted to send them away--fine. She'd leave, and hopefully find a doctor or a cleric able to better heal her wound. Unless this mage had a change of heart, and realized Rose was genuine and the situation was legitimately dire, she would leave, and find someone else to talk to. She wouldn't suffer her time to be wasted.
 
After a few seconds of begging, the woman still declined. It tempted him to get on his hands and knees and beg. He wanted to prove his worth to Rose. He needed to help her. He could tell she didn’t respect him and maybe changing this old woman’s mind would show her he wasn’t as weak and useless as he seemed. He also was in pain and just wanted to clean up before going back. The last thing either of them wanted was to get an infection during the journey. He felt it was weird that the woman wouldn’t even let them get clean up.

Next to him, he could hear Rose give out a sigh of what sounded like helplessness. If she didn’t get help soon, she would be poisoned. Leaving fate to him? If she died, he would not understand what to do. He wouldn’t be able to do anything, and that would mean the artifact would get into the wrong hands and cause world devastation. The idea of being unable to help as they destroyed the world made him feel anxious and more motivated to get help. He thought since Rose was hundreds of years older than him and a Ranger that she would have planned for events like this. She seemed so courageous. How come she was giving up on herself and him? He had always felt safe and felt like she was clever and thought ahead. Guess he thought wrong. He looked over at her with large worried eyes, hoping she had a plan. But she was just staring out into space. He got a few inches closer to her and bumped into her to get her attention. He waited a few seconds then he heard her restate what he said, then mumbled, “What do you think she will do? Turn us into something unnatural?” under her breath, making fun of his previous plea to the lady. It hurt him for her to say something like that, but before he could retaliate, Rose was speaking again. This time she spoke with more force and aggression. Telling the lady that she was here to defend her people and that if she wouldn’t even help the wounded, she would not give them information. Then she got closer and almost challenged the woman holding her angered narrow eyes level with the old woman’s crow-footed face. “Prove me wrong, if you will, I hope t’be wrong.” And while still holding eye contact, Rose reached into her pocket and grabbed a few coins, and threw them at the old lady. “Payment. If your city turns to ash, remember you refused us.”She said, her voice gravelly.

He was stunned by what just happened. He had never seen Rose act like that before, and he never thought she would. She always seemed so calm and collected. He looked at the woman wide-eyed and saw a small smirk on the corner of her mouth. It almost seemed like she liked Rose’s fire. She hobbled away, ushering them away from the front, and as she left, he heard her tell them to go to the back for more privacy. Her voice was thin and breathy, but He followed, glad that the woman reconsidered.

He entered the back, and it was just as bad as the front. Books scattered all over the floor, dusty vases on random shelves and shattered glass mirrors leaned against the wall. The only change was that few candles were in the back, making it dim. He waited for Rose to arrive and took a seat on an overturned crate leaning against a wooden pillar. He was hoping this entire process would be fast so they could move onto whatever it was they needed to do next. He was tired, injured, and just wanted to go home. Even if home meant a parentless rat-infested slum house. He felt bad for being unable to help again and felt like an embarrassment to Rose. Just another reason to go home.
 
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When the old woman finally changed her mind, Rose sighed, and as she hopped back over the counter to follow the woman, she quickly said, "Hannon le. Thank you." She carried all of her belongings with her, and passed quietly into the backroom. She was deeply relieved, and barely glanced at Brant as she passed into the backroom.

She cast her gaze around the room, and then sat down besides Brant. She thanked the woman again, placing her hand over her heart as she did so. She did not regret her intensity, or the way she had spoken to the mage, because she knew the situation was dire, and she knew she would need the mage's help. She could feel it. And, frankly, in Rose's estimation--if someone is bleeding on your floor expressing their need for help, turning them away is a poor reflection of your character. Still, out of respect and gratitude, she said, "I'm sorry for what I said. You must understand--you caught us in a difficult moment. I don't normally steal, and had you been here when we came in, we wouldn't have."

She looked up again at the woman, "I don't know if I can trust you, but my heart tells me if you were a servant of the Shadow, you would not have first tried t'get us t'leave your shop--" Naturally, after saying this, a thousand possible reasons why an enemy would send her away ran through her mind, but nonetheless she believed they did not apply to this woman, "--and so I believe you t'be, at worst, neutral. Who are you?" she asked, "It's easier t'trust when we aren't strangers t'each other. As I said, I'm Rose Naurlireth, and I am a ranger from the south, and this is Brant. You might know him, he's from here, and offered to lead me t'you."
 
As Rose walked in, she sighed a thank you to the lady. He watched as she carried all her belongings in with her. And since she was weaker and tired, the things in her hand sagged against the floor. When she made it into the room, she looked at him but at least looked a little more relieved but still upset. And he felt a little more relieved to sit down.

After she had entered the room, she stood right next to him and thanked the woman one more time, this time putting her hand over her heart as she did so. After thanking the woman, she took a seat right next to him. Upon sitting down, Rose apologized again, but this time going into more depth. Apologizing for what she said, explaining that she caught them in a tough moment. Which was a complete understatement. She was acting as if the situation they were in could not make or break the world. Then said they were not thieves, which he couldn’t agree to, but he kept his mouth shut. Her blubbering wasn’t doing anything but irritating them both. She already allowed them to stay and her constant apologizing was going to get them into trouble.

She glanced up at the woman, saying she didn’t know if she could trust her but thought she could. She also said something about how if she worked for the ¨servant of the Shadow¨ she would have kicked them out. He did not know what it meant, but it wasn’t a good starter. She continued and said something about how she guessed she was a neutral witch he again didn’t understand. But Rose was moving the conversation and was already asking who she was. He zoned out while still half-listening to Rose introducing herself. He only perked up and listened when Rose said his name and introduced him. And when she did he gave a half-hearted wave to her.

The woman looked confused and got straight to the point, ignoring all previous questions.¨We do not need to know each other. You may ask three questions, clean up, then leave.¨ he looked up at her a little stunned, then nudged Rose and whispered for her to ask the questions. Then went back to sitting quietly.
 
Three questions. Rose took a moment, even after Brant had nudged her and urged her to ask, but if she was limited to only three, she needed to come up with the correct ones, "I don't like games," She said, as she pondered, but at last she pulled from her possessions the dagger she had taken from the men who had attacked them, "Do you know this dagger? It seems t'me Agannâluthani in origin, by the angles of the hilt, but the blade is unfamiliar, and all of our attackers carried one, which suggests it is ceremonial, or the mark of some order."

She held the blade so the woman could see it, but did not hand it over. Her trust in the mage decreased when she would not introduce herself, and so Rose would not risk arming her, especially not with this dagger. And she couldn't help but be annoyed. The whole experience wasn't one she had never encountered before, but anytime she spoke to a brick wall was inherently aggravating. Especially now, when the stakes were so high.

Three questions. Well, she had asked the first one. But she would not ask her remaining two until she received an answer. It gave her more time to think, but more importantly, it allowed her to seek out a line of questioning.
 
Rose had a dumbfounded look on her, looking like she was trying to process what the woman said. Maybe the limit of how many questions she could ask confused her. After a moment, she composed herself and spoke to the woman in a more assertive tone, unlike the tone she used only minutes ago. “I don’t like games,” Rose replied as she pulled out the dagger she had stolen from the robbers. She then pointed it at the woman and for a few seconds he thought it was a threat, but when she spoke her voice was unhostile, neither was her response. She was asking if she knew this dagger, saying it looked of Agannâluthani origin. Which was more gibberish to him, but he wanted to know if the woman knew this dagger and could tell them if it was of importance.

She held it in front of the but never handed it over. It was clear the trust between this woman and Rose was low. It felt weird that she wouldn’t even hand over the dagger. How was the woman supposed to look at it when it was wobbling in her hand feet above the ground in dim lighting? It also made him question why she trusted him so much. This whole thing was frustrating, and he wanted to leave the dim, damp building.

The woman studied it a little longer, then looked at Rose and gave her the answer. He zoned out a little, but also did not know what she was talking about, so he hoped that whatever she was saying was useful. The quicker this was over, the better.
 
Rose frowned when the woman said she didn't recognize the dagger and tucked it away. It was a disappointing answer, but not detrimental. Of course she would prefer to know what other group was seeking the shield, but it was nonetheless the least pressing of her tasks.

She took a moment before asking her second question, "We seek a jade and turquoise shield inlaid with the figure of a tree, a swan, a pond, and the evenstar. Old riddles suggest it is kept here in Oderfeld. Is it true the shield we seek is in this town, or at least in the surrounding region?" She was careful with her phrasing. She did not add do you know if, because then the woman could answer yes, but only mean she knows if the shield is in Oderfeld and not say if it actually is. And she had to repeat she was asking about the shield, so the woman couldn't say "yes" but mean it is true riddles suggest the shield was kept in Oderfeld. And of course, she would not say the name of the shield itself.

She paid little heed to Brant. It was clear he was barely paying attention anyway.
 
The woman inspected the dagger for a few moments, then deduced that she didn’t recognize the writing on the dagger. The answer the woman gave dropped a pit into his stomach. This could have been helpful, but looking at Rose’s face told him even though she didn’t know the writing, it wasn’t major.

Rose tucked away the dagger in one of her pockets and took a moment before asking her second question. When she asked, she was careful about wording and told the woman they sought an emerald shield and asked if she knew it. And with more careful wording, she asked if it was in Oderfeld or in the city nearby. Since he joined in on the conversation, he heard how Rose maneuvered the wording so the woman couldn’t just answer yes. It forced her to tell us if it was here or in a neighboring city. And forced her to tell us if she knew of the shield. It was smart and the best way to get a direct answer.

The woman had a dazed look on her like she was trying to answer the question without giving too much information. Then the look faded into a new look of confusion and defeat occupied her face. She sighed and answered the question, not caring to be discreet about the details. ¨The shield is in a city a couple of hundred miles away, in a city called Atthorp. It’s an almost 3-day walk, and the route is through the forest.¨ she grumbled. ¨The last question was two questions, so that’s it I’m no longer answering questions. Clean up and leave.¨ She grunted as she walked farther into the back, fading into the darkness, leaving him and Rose sitting there.

He looked at Rose, stunned she wouldn’t answer the promised three questions. After a few moments of staring, he started taking out the stuff that he pocketed earlier. ¨We have to hurry and clean up if we want to beat whoever’s following us. It’s a long trek, so let’s prepare. He muttered as he continued getting out bottles.
 
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"You cheat at your own game," Rose said bluntly, but not unkindly, as she had only asked two questions--if the woman chose to say where the shield was, and the location of the city, that was her buisness, but Rose only asked if the shield was nearby. Still, she wasn't one to complain about receiving information, so she accepted the change in rules. Again she placed her hand over her heart, and nodding said, "Hannon le. We will leave swiftly."

She then turned towards Brant, a smile playing at her lips as she gathered her things, "You're coming, are you?" He had seemed so desperate to leave, and now he was readying himself for a three days march. She was surprised to say the least, but not disappointed. Too often she travelled alone, although looking at Brant, she knew how it would end for her. But it was the lot of the elves to endure, and a brief companion was preferable to none. "Well, they may have t'be ahead of us for a little while. I can't draw my bow with one arm. Do you know of a healer?"
 
He heard Rose tell the woman she cheated her own game as she disappeared into the background. Even though the woman lied to them, Rose gave a salute, which he assumed was a sign of respect, and told her we would leave quickly. It was no longer important since the woman left, but he assumed respect was important to her, so she was going to salute whether she could or couldn’t see them. After she saluted and promised to leave quickly, Rose looked at him. You’re coming, are you?" she inquired, sounding surprised. His quick change of heart confused her. To be honest, he just wanted to go home and sitting in this shop still wounded was bothering him, but she sounded somewhat happy to hear he was tagging along, so he might as well stay. “Yes, I feel like I know so much, and it has piqued my interest,” he confirmed.

after a while of packing up and rearranging his things, Rose asked another question. “Well, they may have t'be ahead of us for a little while. I can't draw my bow with one arm. Do you know of a healer?”She questioned. He thought about it for a moment, and nothing came to mind. He thought it was weird she wanted to go to another shop. He thought they were just going to clean up here. “No, nothing comes to mind. Sorry. I thought we were just going to clean up here.” He said.
 
"Clean up," Rose repeated, a wry smile playing at her lips, "I have a fragment of a blade in my arm, and I'm not sure if damp towels and bandages will do much for it. I'm not concerned about infection, since I am elfkind, but it still needs to be removed, one way or another." She glanced around the room, hoping to see some miraculous answer, and then refocused on Brant.

"But you may come with me, if you'd like, although the road will be long, and perhaps difficult. I'm better at fending for myself in the wild than I am in a city, and I can provide for you, but making it in three days means very little rest--and I know the forest we will pass through, or at least I know of it, and there are rumors of a sleepless force beneath the leaves, but more should not be spoken of it here. The walls have ears, and they may be unfriendly." Rose did not say how even if the stories she knew were false, it was factual the forest itself was much to brave. She didn't want to scare Brant off, he was, it seemed, conflicted enough about his decision to come. The words he used implied a desire to go with her, but his face remained apprehensive. She couldn't make up his mind for him--it was entirely on him to choose if he preferred to slink off to the life he had known, or take a step down an unexpected road.
 
She smiled at him smugly and repeated his statement about cleaning up. To her the bandages and loads of potions would not be enough to help. She also said she couldn’t get an infection, which made the situation seem less dire. Rose seemed skilled enough to remove the blade from her arm herself, but if she thought she needed medical attention, then he would do his best to help her. She glanced around like she was looking for something, then focused on him.

She paused a second, then went on a tangent, saying he could go, but if he came with her, there would be many sleepless nights. She told him how the journey might be long and difficult. How she could “provide for him” since she was better and fending for herself in the wild than the city. She told him how forces lay beneath the leaves that were sleepless. It sounded like she was wording everything, so the journey sounded scary, so he would quit. And to him, “forces beneath the leaves that were sleepless” sounded like a complete fable to him. Just because he couldn’t win in the small, little street fight did not mean he was hopeless like she thought. He didn’t want to go, but now he wanted to stay so she wouldn’t get the satisfaction of him quitting and her getting what she wanted. She clarified she didn’t want him here, so he was staying.

“I think ill manage. We should somewhat hurry, so we can get help and start our journey soon. I don’t know the exact location of a healer, but I’m sure we can find one if we ask around the town,” he said as he started putting all his stuff back into his pockets.
 
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