"What do you mean it wasn't you?" Welker, now on his two feet, said looking back behind himself. He saw Grogash still paying attention to himself or the smoking ogre, it was difficult to tell where his attention was sometimes. But seeing Man raise his hand to the sky got his attention as he allowed his eyes to be guided to what the confused man was looking at.

Welker follows Man's finger to a point in the lazuli sky without clouds where there is what appears to be a red square flying a long turn to return to their point at the trail.

"You are alrite?" Man asks Wic without returning his eyes to him.

"Fine. Just twisted my ankle."

"Get up den. And try to poke the strange weepin guy too. We may no be safe yet."

"I can no. Hurt too much." Wic answers screaming again when he tries to stand up.

If John heard Welker's question, he doesn't make any mention to answer it. His maniacally laugh in a few moments converted in slow sobs with his face covered by his hands. He seems lost in his own thoughts, oblivious to his surroundings.

Unsure what to make of the flying red square the half-orc instead focuses on Man's thoughts of getting moving and away from any danger. "Can he ride the other horse?" Welker said walking over to Man. Before he quite makes it he pauses near John giving him an open handed blow to the back of the head, nowhere near what he could have put into it. "You can be useless anywhere but here. Wake up!"

Grogash, on hearing the words "other horse" staggers off to cut a few slices of meat off of the dead one. In the time Welker had known this so-called brother orc, he knew Grogash prefered his meat fresh and bloody. It wasn't as if the dead horse would be helping any of them get to their destination.

Ludwig/John

"What?" John yells when he is hit by Welker. He looks with seething eyes to him, however this moment is very brief. Soon he recognizes that it was his fault, he had snapped.

"Thank you, stranger." He says timidly. "I know I already meeted you, but I don remember your name."

"He seem fine. But he can carry only two." Man answers Welker, not removing his eyes from the sky.

The red square continues to approach their position lowering its height too. It seems it is actually a flat red square with a man standing over it.

"Are you alright? I said out loud my name was Welker One-Tusk yesterday," Welker says walking towards Man.

"The rest of us will have to walk," Welker said to Man. The half-orc noted Man's eyes had not left the skies. "Not going to have enough time for a splint," There was an edge of nervousness in his voice. The little man on the red square could easily be a foe. "Help me get him on the horse," Welker said grabbing Wic behind the shoulder and leg.

Ludwig/John

"But for my memory, I am fine." He says standing up and looking for the first time to the point in the sky that everyone is staring.

"Welker, right. My name is John. What dat is? A flyin carpet?" He says pointing to the sky.

As the red square approaches is possible to see that it is undulating with the movement, like a real carpet. The man above the carpet is using a white cloth with a white turban over the head. He appears to have his right hand over his chest where the heart is supposed to be and his left hand opened and the same arm flexed and close to his body. This is the standard gesture for a formal greetings in the Dragon Empire.

Welker grabs Wic for his arms. John moves to help, but it seems they will not have enough time. The man on the carpet will arrive in a few seconds.

The man arrives and stops his flying carpet close to the back of the wagon. He appears to be jovial, despite not young, and he has a smooth tanned skin. His white cloth is immaculate, a perfect white with only some threads of gold. The only parts not white are a blue precious stone at the front of his turban from where a long blue plume is fixed.

"Long live the empress, travelers. I was travelling to Axis when I saw the commotion and I decided to help. I hope I didn't arrive too late. Is everyone fine?" The man on carpet says, stepping out of the carpet, that remains flying one foot over the ground, and scanning with his eyes the bloody scenario.

"Empress? Ha! Had us worried down here," Welker said glad to see a friendly man on that carpet. "The Ogre hit us hard and was thinking we may be in trouble again. We lost a couple of men to the brute," After setting Man upon the horse he said, "That magic yours?"

Grogash only watched seeming fascinated by the flying red cloth.

"Yes, I am a mage. When I saw trouble, I didn't hesitate in helping. I was flying too fast to stop. So I made an attack and I had to make a long to turn to return."

"No just any mage. I know you. I don know how, but I know you. You are Rufus Lamar."

"Indeed, I am Rufus. Seventh mage of the Mage Council." Rufus says looking at Welker and John's condition. "I see you are injured. I wish I could help more, but my carpet can only carry myself.

Man, now that the danger passed, goes to retrieve his cousin's body. Feeble tears appear at the corner of his eyes. He didn't relate very well with him, however they were family, and more important friends.

As John and Rufus had their exchange he felt lost when the subject of Mage Council was brought up. He knew it existed, but its role and importance in things were lost on his mind. "That smoking hole you left the ogre was more than I expected," Welker said on the subject of more help. He turns to deal with the dead, when a thought crosses his mind. "You know the distance to Anvil from here?"

"Thirty miles, more or less." He says putting his hand on his chin to think. "How can I help? Hmm... I think I have something that can ease your pain at least." He rummages through a bag at his side and recovers some bottles from it. He offers them to the injured travelers.

"It is yours to take. Three Healing Potions."

"I wish I could offer more help, but I need to go. Do you want to ask for anything else?" He says steeping over the flying carpet again.

John looks at him, kind of dumbfounded, like he should ask something important, but he cannot remember what.

"Wish I could think of something more to ask," Welker said happy enough to have the potions should they be in need of them and knowledge of how much longer there journey was to continue. He gives the man, Rufus, the same gesture that he had given them as he came down, hand over his heart and one palm open, though it came off less elegant in his movements. "May we meet again in the Empire,"

Grogash attempts his own form of farewell, hands still covered in blood of goblin, ogre, and horse. It is even less elegant than the one before, a simple waving farewell, not understanding the scene around him other than what's is dead and what isn't dead.

Rufus repeats the gesture and disappears more fast than they could believe with their eyes. In very few seconds, they could not see him anymore.

Man pulls the remaining horse with Wic and Tom's body. "I am goin back to Trunks. Dis work is over for us."

"I bleeve we shuld return too. And help dem." John says timidly. He doesn't have time to finish this sentence. He appears to change again, correcting his posture and acquiring a sneer face.

"No, we must proceed. There is no profit in returning. We must press onward. That is where my objective lies."

Welker growled low. "Bury your cousin and tend to your other problems. I still intend on seeing this through," It didn't seem as if he even tried to mask his frustrations about having to try and deal with the problem with smaller numbers. In fact he rarely did anything that masked his true emotions, and he felt strongly about not finishing a job. It came with his former position with the mercenary company. "Glad you're at least sticking with the job," he told John.

Grogash walked up to Welker pointing at himself. "Of course I know your staying," Welker said. Somehow the way he said it drew happiness from the mute half-orc. It wasn't something he understood, or even tried to. But he had another man to fight besides him in the coming battles.

Ludwig/John

My name is Ludwig, Welker. Not John. There is no way I will abandon my objective, furthermore for just a trifle.

He changes again, after some internal fighting.

But how you are so insensitive? Dey help us win dis fight, dey deserve to be helped now.

We don need any help. We can take care of ourselves. Just go.

John lowers his head, acknowledging Man's desires. He doesn't really have anywhere to go, but he doesn't want to proceed either. Return to work on a farm is probably a better idea for him, but he thinks his other self will not let him do that.

"I got nothing against them. Wouldn't relish losing one close to me," Welker said motioning for Ludwig to follow along. His look didn't really soften much, as he made his way down the path. "But someone has to take the job, keep order,"

"Let's see if we can stop any further ambushes along this route,"

Location: Anvil
Date: Hekatombaion, 19
Time: 17:45

The adventurers walk in silence at a brisk pace, pushing themselves to their damaged limits to reach Anvil before the sunset. Each one immersed in their own thoughts about the current situation and their own personal problems.

They reach their destination exhausted as soon as they pass between two small hills and could see the southern side of a large mountain at the northern end of the Giantwalk. Anvil. The biggest dwarf outpost, nowadays turned into a city, and the entrance to the Undermarch. A place of mountainous geography where many dwarven buildings had been excavated at the rock wall at many different plateaus.

Many other buildingss were constructed by other races and many dwarfs, making a city grow around the entrance of the Undermarch, specially around a sinuous pathway that climbs the mountain until the very portal that holds the entrance of the Undermarch.

There is very low movement, but some humans and dwarfs stroll nearby.

Welker was glad to see the settlement, as it meant they were closer to the job and somewhere he could rest his legs, which had started to ache some from the long, quiet walk. "Let's see if the people here are as friendly as the dwarf with the angry face claimed," He made sure he had the papers that Angryface had given them, along with what the dwarf said he should pin to himself on his chest and the chest of his not so bright kin.

Hailing the nearest human he asked, "Who handles the out of town help in this town? And how do we find him?"

The human, a thin man dressed with plain clothes, is almost scared to death when Welker interrupts his daydream.

"What?" He almost yells, spilling saliva from his mouth.

"You mean the Dwarfish garrison. It's up there." He says pointing at the top of the road. "But you won't be received there at this time."

"Dere is anywhere where we can spend the night?" John intrudes in the conversation.

The man thinks a little before answering. "There is a tavern nearby, the Keg 'n' Casket. It's very known."

Grogash mouths one of the few words he could say if his vocal cords did work, beer. "Yeah, we can get a couple when we get to the tavern," Welker responds to what he assumes was a question from his less clever tag along. "Which way to it?"

Across the street from where they are talking, Welker is sure a dwarf with a blond braided mustache and heavy looking splint mail armor is staring their way. Likely it is due to his job, but he doesn't know.