As the group approached The Burned Garden, the meager pole lanterns cast a grim light on the streets. Those few populating the streets kept away from their group, some melting away into the shadows, scurrying to their holes like the vermin they were. Even so, the group kept keen eyes on their surroundings. No sense in inviting the desperate to take a shot.

Jeshin strode forward toward the door of the tavern, the slits through the window boards dark and unlit. She pounded heavily on the door, shaking it in its weak frame, her face an impatient scowl. After a few moments, she pounded again, harder, before the locks on the other side started to turn. The door cracked open, and the muzzle of Uporin could be seen, shrouded, his eyes filled with fear and suspicion. Jeshin throws open the door, catching the kulam by his shoulder and tossed him into the street. The kulam screamed as he was yanked through the portal and thrown onto the dirty stones in front of the group. He scrambled to his back, scrabbling to gain purchase and footing.

Jeshin squatted in front of Uporin, her nose wrinkled from his stench.

'Get up, wretch. It's good you didn't run, you wouldn't have enjoyed the chase as much as me.' Her teeth flash, her smile unamused. 'We're leaving, start walking,' she says as she points toward a wide, western street. The nearest gate was in the south west of the city, where the rest of their people were camped outside the walls.

Uporin trembled, but got to his feet, shaking. He hunched forward, hands wringing, as he began walking toward the intersection. Every now and then he looked back, but would quickly turn to the front with a squeak when he noticed a pair of green eyes following his every movement.

Now I have to babysit..., Jeshin thinks to herself with a sigh, her annoyance palpable in her eyes.

The group turned into the intersection and continued through the winding streets until spilling out into a massive street that ran to the south west and north east of the city and far beyond the walls, winding out of sight of even the tallest tower. The High Run road was an ancient one that was built thousands of years before by an empire that built itself from humble beginnings over countless generations, until eventually it vanished altogether, as if it were never there to begin with. The only leavings of its passage were various ruins, massive and imposing, and the High Run road they currently walked.

They marched to and through the towering multi-gate that stood before them, the guards posted in front of it watching them with expressions unknowable in their deep helms. The group could feel their eyes follow them, and Joshua winked at one as he passed. The guard shook his head lightly, then continued his vigil.

They headed to the nearby stable outside of the walls. Pounding on the stable doors, they tasked the grumbling, sleepy stablehand to saddle and ready their horses. In the case of Jeshin, she preferred to stay on foot. There were never any horses large enough to handle her frame, and she preferred to run alongside anyway. Vara took the reins of the heavy draft horse that Uporin sat upon, tying the kulam's fat hands to the saddle horn and his waist roped to the horse itself. Heading out, the group silently set an easy gallop, Jeshin running alongside the group, her breathing slow and easy.

The trip to their main camp took them all of fifteen minutes at their speed, the fires seen through trees from the roadside. The group veered toward it, before slowing and being greeted by the rest of the encampment. Seventeen men and women, all elves, dwarves and humans, made up the Voiceless Ring mercenary group, not including the other five lieutenants and their captain. Joshua dismounted with an easy grace, running into the arms of his lover. The man grabbed Joshua into a large hug, kissing him, before setting him down with a laugh.

Vara waved at the encampment and dismounted, but threw Uporin in the corner of their camp with a heavy grunt, then sat watching him. Cossack took the group's horses to the encampment's makeshift stable area and, getting help from a grizzled man, fed them then began saddling the rest of the horses. Others from the group got up and began to pack up their camp to only the essentials, awaiting the inevitable command from their captain. Kor'lo and Norvor walked away to pack their own things, they themselves in a heated discussion about the ethics of a society that relied on sex to settle disputes instead of intellectual debate.

Jeshin stamped heavily to her tent, yanked open the flap, then turned and shouted at the camp, a bestial excitement in her voice and eyes. 'We leave in twenty! We're going hunting tonight, my Ring!' The tent flap closing behind her did little to lower the din of cheers from the camp.