As the mist subsided, Alexander looked around to find that the scenery had changed substantially. They were now on the outskirts of a town, its cobblestone houses and stone-brick roads immediately indicating the increase of regional wealth. The forest was gone, and replacing it were now generally wide-open plains. Aside from, of course, the small mountain range greeting them to the north. They wandered toward the city gates as the guards stepped aside, concluding that they were not a threat. At least not yet, in their eyes.

The three Earthlanders peered around curiously. Mostly in awe at the difference stone made, as opposed to shoddy wooden buildings and rough dirt paths. As they strolled through the winding roads, Kieran reminded them of their task. "As the Commander said, we need to find leads. We know he's probably still in the area. All we need to do is narrow down the possibilities."

"And then we demolish this guy, right?" Alexander cracked his knuckles, a fire burning in his eyes. He was already envisioning the fight - Alexander's adrenaline pumping violently as he and Markos traded blows, flames everywhere. Finally, some action.

Kieran shot him a glare sharp enough to cut steel. "Try using your head for once, idiot. We need to question him first. Or did you forget how you nearly ruined everything last week?"

"That wasn't all my fault!" Alex bristled. "If you didn't step in front of me, I'd have-!"

"Enough," Taber snapped in frustration. "You two can argue after we find this Markos guy! We have to find a lead to wherever Anxor is. That's our mission." His gaze flicked to Kieran. "Right?"

A tense silence.

Alexander clicked his tongue. "Fine," he grumbled.

"Yeah, whatever." Kieran muttered as he picked up his pace. "Let's just get this over with. We'll split up, find whatever information we can. After that, we'll all meet up at the town square."

Whatever apprehension existed between the four didn't surface past that. They nodded in agreement, then split up. Disappearing wordlessly into the busy side streets of the town.

Alexander weaved between commuters and customers, taking quick peeks at the numerous stalls dotting the sides of the buildings. Their displays advertised everything from freshly-picked fruit, to gleaming trinkets to glistening swords and armor. He'd be remiss to say he wasn't at least tempted by that last one.

On a map, the town of Siron was little more than a dot, hardly worth a mention. Though despite that, between the chatter of the vendors and the buzzing of the narrow streets, it felt anything but small. If it were up to him, he'd spend the day wandering the streets, taking in the atmosphere. Not to mention that he'd recently learned that the legal drinking age in Leod was sixteen. So if not for the mildly important quest he was on (as well as the fact that he lacked proper identification), he might have even tried out Siron's nightlife. Maybe another time, Alex...

He pressed on with a sigh, uttering hurried apologies every time he bumped into a stranger (which just so happened to be a lot). After a few more minutes of snaking through several groups of people, he found the crowd had begun to thin, and now found himself in a quieter part of town. Alright, he thought. This is better. Now that he could actually hear his own thoughts, and possibly even another person's individual voice, he decided that this area would be the best place to ask around for information.

He walked aimlessly until his gaze fell upon a building with an aged wooden sign that swung lazily on a perch. Worn, but still legible, were the words, 'Sinking Lily Tavern.'

Well, if this isn't a good place to ask questions, then I don't know what is.

Alexander pushed open the heavy door, the thick scent of stale beer and the burning wood from the fireplace greeting him as he entered. Its dimly-lit interior housed a few loyal patrons, hunched over pints of ale, engaged in drunken murmurs and half-hearted laughter.

A couple of the patrons turned their heads to the creaking of the door, glancing warily toward the newcomer. However, with a single glance at the (mostly) unarmed teenager, they lost interest, returning to their drinks and idle banter.

Alexander softly cleared his throat and wandered inside. He went around the bar, asking several of the tavern's clients if they knew anything. However, not one of them had any knowledge of what he was talking about. And if they did, they had nothing to say to some random kid strolling into town.

Just as Alexander was beginning to lose hope, one patron partially drunk in the corner spoke up, grabbing his attention. "Ain't often we get youngsters in here," the man said, his words blurred at the edges. "What're you here for?" Alex turned to the man. He was relatively ripped, enough to where he could tell through his relatively baggy clothes. He wanted to think that he was some kind of mercenary, though he was a little too clean for that kind of work. So unless he was a well-off mercenary with constant access to a bath, he opted to believe he was either a roofer or carpenter.

Alexander strode closer, swallowing back his nervousness. "I'm, uh... I'm looking for leads."

"Leads?" The man chuckled to himself. "What are ya, some kind of guard-in-trainin'?"

"No, sir. I'm a Mage."

The man became skeptically amused, giving Alex a once-over before raising a brow. "A Mage. Lookin' for leads."

Alexander understood. Most times Azerael would speak of the type of work Mages typically do, it's always more in-line with adventuring. Particularly in beating on monsters or bandits. Mages weren't always the type to play detective. However...

"I know it's a little off-beat for our type of work," Alex continued, "but it's for a quest."

"A quest." The man rubbed his short ragged beard. "How old are you, kid?"

"Sixteen."

"Well, then, sit down. I've got a little bit." Alexander nodded, pulling back the chair and sitting down. The man snapped his fingers to the bartender. "Hey, Herald, old friend! A mug of ale!" The man behind the counter nodded and began pouring a bottle. Alexander sat up.

"Oh, sir, I can't-"

The man leaned slowly over the table. "Nonsense. I can't talk comfortably with a man I can't drink with. You wanna ask me questions, pick my noggin'? Take a swig with me." The bartender placed two mugs in front of Alexander and the man. Alexander shifted his glance between him and the ale. The man gave a nod.

Alexander swallowed, picking up the stein and offered a small toast to the man. As he brought it to his face, he stifled a gag at the scent. Nevertheless, knowing what he had to do, he shut his eyes tight and slammed back the thick booze. He placed it back onto the table, his face contorted into an expression of disgust. The man laughed.

"Atta boy!" The man continued to laugh at Alexander's plight as he wiped his face with a sleeve. "The name's Igran. I run the item shop down the road at the edge of town, just over by the mountains." The man tilted his head, gesturing in the direction. "How about you, tiny?"

Alexander cleared his throat in hopes of getting rid of the taste in his mouth before responding. "My name is Alexander. Alexander Young. I'm a student of Master Azerael Briarheart, if you heard of him."

The man gave a slow nod of understanding. "Aye. 'Course I know of him, kid. Very few in this here country don't. So tell, me," Igran leaned in. "What is it that Azerael's kid would wanna know from a shop owner like I?"

Alexander explained the situation regarding Riverville. Of course, he left out anything regarding Anxor. He had a feeling that wouldn't be taken very well, if anybody knew who Anxor was to begin with.

Igran crossed his arms, grumbling as he leaned back in his seat. "Silver hair and a green cloak, eh?" Alexander nodded. Igran took another sip of his ale as Alex followed suit, growing somewhat used to the pungent flavor. Igran continued. "Come to think of it, I do remember seeing somebody of that description."

"How long ago?"

"Earlier this mornin'." Igran put his stein down. "I was openin' up shop as usual. Look out the window to admire the view and sure enough, there was a man walkin' out into the forest towards the mountains."

"Why would he go that way?"

"Who knows? If he's a suspect in your lil' investigation, though, my bet is he was headin' for Ciroc Cavern. Its entrance is just on the side of Mount Ciroc, the closest one."

Alexander nodded, beginning to stand, feeling a little woozy from having drank half the mug of ale by then. "Thanks, Igran. I owe you one."

"Ain't a thing, lightweight," Igran chuckled. "Thanks for drinkin' with me. It was gettin' a lil' borin' over here."

Alexander's eyes widened. "Oh, right! I should probably pay you back for the drink." Before he could reach for his pouch, Igran held up a hand.

"This one's on me, Alexander. If you do wanna pay me back sometime, though? Recent additions to the town have limited my customers in recent days. Buy a lil' somethin', that'll be enough."

Alexander smiled, returning his arm to his side. "Sure thing, Mister Igran." With that, he waved goodbye, racing out of the tavern. Igran chuckled, grabbing Alexander's half-emptied mug and pressing it to his lips before gagging.

"Damn it, Herald! You gave the boy Grymness!" A good few of the tavern's patrons chuckled, to include Herald and Igran, who placed the mug back down and thought to himself.

The kid was tryin' to act like this stuff didn't faze him around me, yet was drinking something far stronger all along... He chuckled to himself once more before shrugging, slamming back the stout and leaning back in his chair.

Taber, Kieran and Emily were stood in a circle in the town square, looking in all directions for Alexander to show up.

"Where is he," Taber asked. "It's been a couple hours, he should have been back by now."

Kieran looked around the groups of people, little interest in his expression as he mumbled, "With any luck, he got trampled in the crowds." Emily and Taber shot him an apprehensive look before returning their gaze outboard.

"In any case," Taber continued, "I hope he found something. It seems like the rest of us have come up dry..."

A couple of moments passed. Soon after, however, Emily noticed a familiar silhouette peek between the crowd. As she saw him clearer, she perked up. "There he is!" She pointed to Alexander as he ran over to them, a slight wobble in his form.

Kieran turned to him with slight disgust. "You reek of booze. Why do you reek of booze?"

"Don't even ask. In any case, I probably won't be drinking again anytime soon..."

Kieran stormed over to Alex, grabbing his collar and growled. "Look, I don't know whether or not you think this is some kind of game, or some kind of joke. But it isn't! We're talking about a whole damn continent falling to this cult if we don't stop them soon... And what are you doing? Drinking?! Do you have any idea what even one day of inactivity could cost us?!"

Alexander snarled back. "Look, do you want to hear what I found out, or not?" The others traded glances among each other. Kieran clicked his tongue, giving Alex a light shove as he released him.

"So," he said. "What did you find out?" Alexander began to go into detail about meeting Igran, how he wouldn't have been able to get him to talk without drinking, and then about Ciroc Cavern. Kieran stood with crossed arms, shifting his glance to the side. "Alright. That makes sense. Good job, I guess." Alexander nodded. Kieran turned to the others. "In that case, we're heading north. We'll investigate Ciroc Cavern. From what I've read, it's pretty long, so if he is in there, Markos is more than likely resting."

The others nodded, and got themselves ready to make their way over.

It took them around thirty minutes to find the entrance to the cave. For the most part, its interior was relatively well-lit. There were a lot of smaller rooms inside storing several barrels. Alexander got the feeling that they were being used to ferment ale. Still woozy, the thought made his stomach churn.

They had wandered for a few minutes with no sign of Markos anywhere. "Maybe he left earlier?" Emily suggested.

"Maybe," Kieran said. "But with the distance between here and Riverville, as well as the time it took for him to arrive, I doubt he'd have the energy to go much further."

Alexander, bored out of his mind, decided to pass the time walking by tracing the walls with his eyes as they passed. Each crack, each crevice, each imperfection. He continued to do so, until one such 'imperfection' caught his eye. He stopped.

Kieran turned around. "What is it?" Alex didn't answer. Instead, flames slowly sparked to life around his fist as he raised it. He huffed, slamming his fist into the hollow stone as it crumbled to bits at his feet, the change in pressure causing wind to rush out of the cubby. Inside, a man once curled up on the floor beside a smoldering fire jolted awake, looking back at his failed wall. He stood up, his silver hair appearing almost orange against the faint flames beside him and his golden eyes appearing brighter than described. He cautiously raised his fists, eyeing a satchel at his feet. Kieran rushed in, the others following suit.

"Markos Zelf!" Kieran uttered.

"What about me?" Markos shifted in place restlessly.

"You're a suspect, Markos! I ask that you come with us peacefully, else there will be blood!"

Markos' eyes flashed from Kieran, to the bag, to the others. Alexander took note of the thief's apparent anxiety. However, before he could make an opinion, Markos shook his head softly, then more vigorously. "No. N-No, no. That's not gonna happen. That won't happen!" Markos brought his arms up, dispelling a wind so ferocious that tiny cuts began to coat their arms.

Alexander groaned in pain. Though even worse, he noticed that Wind wasn't the only magic Markos had up his sleeve. Because as he looked up, a massive dark-violet ball hovered above Markos' head.