Galtharian

"Banter... yes, I know of this."

Cardanith said as he leaned closer to the Table while casting his gaze over at Galtharian who had placed the elf's drink of choice down before him. All the while the scowl adorning his face almost forced itself to appear as a smile as he looked to Baralinion.

Together or not at all.

Those words repeated like a mantra in Envandame’s mind as they were dragged from their cells, hands bound behind them, and marched to an unknown fate. 

Soft light from a setting sun danced along the edges of the tall grass as it swayed. A breeze moved it, almost melodically so. A late summer's warmth laid on his skin as he turned and looked around. 

A flutter of a green cloak alerted him to the one some odd steps before him. Unhooded, watching, his hands laying still at his side as if they never needed to grasp a weapon.

“Would you have forfeited it? The chance to escape, if you and another could not escape together.”

Those words rang through her mind again and again with the closing of each cell door. 

They marched forward, bodies and hearts aching. Rain pounded around them. The damp and dark made the grim stone walls feel as if they were closing in. Galtharian continued to weep as they caught their breath for a moment in the shadows. 

“There is still time. It is not too late.”

They finally found a place to rest. Within one of the ruined structures within Carn Dum, the two were huddled around a small fire, draped in their traveling cloaks. 

“Ye know, for a Elf-Warrior in a shoddy piece of plate, yer not too bad, laddie.” 

Galtharian poked his head into the room, glancing around the dusty room cautiously before opening the door fully. His face lit up as he saw the figure inside. He dashed in, unwrapping the parcel he was carrying and setting down the several bottles on the top of the papers and maps on the table. He grabbed two empty mugs from the nightstand next to them, hopping over the books that were stacked all over the floor. 

Worthy of Song 

When the hammer falls, back our enemy crawls! When the hammer quakes, Orcish cowards’ bones will break! When the hammer cracks, and it beats their armies back! When the hammer’s boom, sends the monsters to their doom! When the hammer falls, when the hammer falls! 

“Ye won’t make it.” 

A melodic chuckle escaped the figure as it fell softly into the tall grass from it's refuge upon the treetops. The bear that was pursuing him had gone limp, punctured with several arrows. Galtharian looked up, meeting the eyes of the archer, unable to hide the almost guilty expression in his face.