Scáth’leann

Averin strode through the gates of Scáth’leann. His head was held high,his left hand resting casually on the pommel of An Dli, his gait confident and self assured. The rest of his company marched in behind him and his Bear Cub waddled in next to him. The remainder of their trip had been uneventful and surprisingly swift. Still what they had seen and heard had proven the rumors of The Wyld to be true.

Once they were through the gate Avein paused. The city was breath taking in it's beauty. A perfect mixture of nature and culture. The tree decorated with lights and buildings of finer make than anything a mortal could produce. The fae though had eternal lives and the time to create such beauty. The man who would be king tears his eyes from his city and he searches. He doesn't doubt that a welcome part will meet them shortly, if they aren't already present.

It was perhaps an hour or so later when Averin is lead back to his men. He gather them all including Eliza Opal, Damtion, and Sir Cairex Forgepyre. Once they are assembled he takes them in. They had seen him through much. It seemed almost cruel that on the most dangerous part of this quest, they would have to take a back seat. Still the Fae had made their demand and there was nothing he could do about it. He clears his throat and says solemnly.

"The Fae have given me their bargain. For their blessing they have asked that I travel to the dragons run. There I need to retrieve an artifact in the possession of a red wyrm. I will most likely have to do battle with it in the process. The Fae have made it clear I must do this alone. They will shelter you for two weeks. If I am not back by then they will turn you out into The Wyld. If I am not back by then I am most likely dead. Are there any questions?"

Damtion did not seem to be too bothered at being left in the city. Indeed he stood silently, only nodding slightly in response to Averin. Damtion would follow his orders without question.

If Averin was surprised to find Ailionóra outside his room he didn't show it. He stares at her calmly a travel bag slung over his shoulder, hand resting on the pommel of An Dli. He listens to her words and returns her bow, matching it in depth. The cub looked at the fae woman unsure, but at his assurance and Ailionóra's magic it waddled over to the woman.

"Your words are most kind. I will see you when my task is complete."

His voice is low and calm, with only the faintest nervous edge to it. Averin curses himself for that, but it can't be helped. He was to journey to the most dangerous part of The Wyld alone. There he would fight a dragon while woefully under equipped. As Ailionóra had hinted he would have to rely on stealth and guile to avoid death. Unfortunately, neither of those were things he had trained in. He would just have to hope that fate would see him through. With nothing left to say he departs, back straight, head held high, looking every inch the king he may one day be.

Cairex followed the woman warily after Sir Averin had left, the wolf pack trotting faithfully at his heels. He trusted the wildlings and had heard their stories of the fae depredations against their people. He thoroughly sniffed the food and drink prepared before eating or drinking it. If it did not smell or appear poisonous he would eat slowly, stabbing a piece with his claw to put it in his mouth. He would wait for someone else to start talking first, preferring to observe their interactions before speaking himself.