Amaran felt faint. He knew he had lost a lot of blood, and that loosing much more would kill him. "I need stitches" he managed to murmur. "Clean the wound...and stitches."

It appeared that Amaran was in capable hands, so Falch'nus moved quietly out of the way. Both the solitude and the clean air, untainted by blood, were curiously refreshing. He settled himself by the river to take stock of his own injuries. A bandage for his twisted ankle, a small jar of salve. He'd suffered worse.

He was just tightening and tying the bandage when the gyrfalcon landed on his shoulder and nipped at his ear. Smiling slightly, he looked up to stroke its gray feathers. A movement caught his eye. He froze and stared intently upstream. A small glimmer of... torchlight? The dark water rippled. It drew steadily nearer, and Falch'nus realized that it was indeed a barge.

Convenient. Eerily so.

He turned back to the others, wondering if they'd noticed it.

_________________

Jada took the proffered healing balm with a nod of thanks and promptly used it, digging in her pack for bandages and luckily finding some. She had just finished and was thanking the powers that be that it wasn't her sword arm, when she caught a faint glimmer in her peripheral vision. Turning, expecting it to be nothing, Jada caught sight of the barge and stopped short. How...providential. Equipped with needed torch and everything. In fact, she wouldn't have been surprised if it rowed itself.

This made a faint flicker of caution rise. How convenient could convenience get until it became suspicious. "We going to use that?" she asked abruptly, with a nod at said mode of transportation.

_________________

"Patch your wounds as best as you can, carry wolf boy with you, if you must otherwise you can leave him, if he is good as dead all though doesn't seem like it."
Ruthnak clenched his teeth to keep from lashing out at the sorcerer. <i>Doesn't he care for anyone besides himself?</i> Instead, he focused on bathing Amaran's wound with river water. "Do you have a needle?" he asked the elf. The wound did need stiched. Ruthnak could come by thread from his cloak easily enough, but he didn't have a needle.

Crove turned to gaze to the barge that arrived so conveniently along the river in the dark glimmer of the water. Crove made his way to Falch`nus and stopped by the riverside waving his hand at the barge. At first it seemed that they would be left unnoticed, but then the men on the barge stopped to stare at a rather unusual group of travelers.

"Where are ye headed?" An old man inquired as he impatiently gazed at the riverside seeing that the travelers had dispatched of some orcs.

"Mirabar, care to allow a group of tired travelers aboard. As you can see, we are more than able to offer adequate protection should anything happen along the way."

Crove said and pointed out towards the grim remains of a battle where orc bodies were shown by moonlight, they dark blood glimmered in the light and gave a somewhat horrific looking effect. The old man nodded and the barge came to the riverside, Crove entered first and jumped onto the barge lightly. At first the old man had watched in horror, if Crove was going to rock the barge, but Crove made a perfectly stable landing quite near the center of the barge. Crove then gazed towards his companions as they followed, but he stood beside the old man giving few words of advice so that no one else could hear them except for the other men of the barge.

"No need to worry old man, one of us has orc blood, but I can guarantee your safety and I hardly doubt any of us in the mood for a fight after what we just did. I understand you have something of mine in your possession."

The old man grunted and made a quietly nod, handing a letter to Crove behind his back and Crove snatched it, placing it safely into his pocket.

_________________

Let him curse my name
On these blood stained pages of misery
Let him call me a tyrant so cruel
Let him curse my name, but remember the truth!

Kiana mended her wounds as best she could. She put some healing balm on her woudns and bound them tightly. She desprately wished to fall down and sleep, but she knew they had to keep moving.

_________________
<center>

[font=Times New Roman]
Hello, I'm Amoniel
[/font]</center>

Arielle heard Ruthnak's question. Searching in her cloak - she knew she had one that she used to mend her clothes - she eventually located it and handed it to the half-orc.

As he cleaned and stitched the layers shapeshifter's wound, she found herself observing the commotion about the boat from her position at Amaran's head. It was awfully convenient, the boat. Odd how Crove seemed to know exactly what he was doing. Aye, that one knew things, alright.

As the rest of the party began embarking, the mercenary turned to Ruthnak. "Finish that on the boat. We'd best leave; I'd not be surprised if there was stragglers to that orc party, and I'd rather not find out." Getting to her feet, she bent down and grasped Amaran by the shoulders, waiting for the half-orc to take his feet so they could carry him to the watercraft.

_________________


<center>Nothing but the Rain</center>

Amaran shivered as the needle came toward his skin. It glimmered fiercely in fire light of some kind, but Amaran was too preoccupied with the sliver of metal to wonder the origin of the light.
The half orc Ruthnak plunged the needle into his skin. Amaran knew the Ruthnak was probably taking the utmost care to keep it as painless as possible, but needles and flesh did certainly not equal comfort of any kind. White hot pain blazed along Amaran's belly. He clenched his teeth, but moans still faught their way through. The half orc had just finished when he felt his shoulders grabbed by one of his companions. Amaran was dragged upward, tearing at his stitches. He yellped, then fell silent as he drifted into unconciousness.

"That makes it easier." Ruthnak muttered as the elf went unconcious. He graped him by the legs and helped Arielle carry him onto the barge. The half orc handed her back the needle. "Thanks." he said. "The stiches out to hold."
He washed the wound again, then crushed the herbs and spread them along the seam. He quickly bandaged it, then sat back on his heels. "Well, that's the best we can do."

Elaborate was not a word to describe the barge, which sat sturdily in the water, illuminated by a few lamps. A sea dragon couldn't shatter this thing. Falch'nus moved to the railing and gazed out over the moonlit waters. The gyrfalcon alighted silently on his shoulder, its talons digging painfully into his leather shoulder strap. He stroked its feathers for a while before dismissing it back into its minuscule statuette, where it could rejuvenate and regain its strength. Alone with his thoughts, he leaned into the barge's serene rocking. The oarsmen worked efficiently. Soon they would be at Mirabar, then at Longsaddle, and after that...

Silverymoon. He didn't relish the thought. It struck him that he might be a little in love with Lady Alustriel, as most men who beheld her were. The thought amused him. He was experienced and pragmatic enough to know that he couldn't allow such emotions to thwart his judgement. But it wasn't just conscience that warned him against this quest.

A valuable skill of bounty hunting was knowing when and how to set a trap. Now Falch'nus couldn't shake off the instinct that the hunter had become the hunted. He was nothing to Crove. A rabbit in a snare, perhaps, expendable bait for the wolf. And everyone knows that the bait never survives.

Crove appeared preoccupied with an old man at the other side of the barge. The others were at the stern end, still gathered around Amaran. Falch'nus quietly made his way over towards them.

"How much do we trust this Crove?" he asked bluntly, by way of a conversation starter.

_________________

Ruthnak stood and stretched, stiff muscles and joints cracking. He leaned against the railing. "I don't trust him." he said frankly. "I'm only here because it's my way out of prison."

Arielle raised an eyebrow, taking a firm seat in the stern and fixing him with an intense gaze. "That's quite a question, comrade. My opinions are as before, but I ask you this: even if you knew exactly what each of us thought, what would be your action on the matter? Would you propose a coalition of sorts, or would you do naught? Aye, he might be the threat we can see, but there are those that we cannot see, and this must also be kept in mind, or we might not see the forest for the trees. And what would be the extent of your trust in us?"

_________________


<center>Nothing but the Rain</center>

Kiana scooted closer to the group.
"I don't say I trust him, but he seems like a strong ally." Kiana shrugged. She looked at the unconcious elf, "will he be alright?" She asked the 2 who carried him over.

_________________
<center>

[font=Times New Roman]
Hello, I'm Amoniel
[/font]</center>

Crove didn`t touch the letter, he knew that opening a latter that had appeared seemingly out of nowhere would raise suspicions as, if his companions were not suspicious enough. It was obvious that they either knew were little of such situations or were just not accustomed to it. Crove couldn`t help walking to them and stepping into their conversation unannounced.

"So what`s the special occasion here? I wasn`t aware taking care of a patient required four pairs of hands or is it just some kind of emotional support that you are granting him?"

He asked with clear amusement in his voice as they seemed to be gathering around, sharing their doubts, plans and opinions. Their opinions about him, there was no question about it.

_________________

Let him curse my name
On these blood stained pages of misery
Let him call me a tyrant so cruel
Let him curse my name, but remember the truth!

Falch'nus found himself shaking his head. Arielle was a perceptive one. What could they do but plunge face-first into the trap? In any case, at least communications had been opened between them. None of his companions particularly enjoyed the status quo, that much apparent.

Footsteps thudded on the deck behind him. He cast each of his impromptu companions an emphatic look before turning to greet the one face he'd be happy never seeing again. "Call it bonding, if you like," he offered dryly.

_________________

"Aye," Ruthnak said, "We thought as long as we were on the barge together, we might as well get to know each other."

He turned to glance at Amaran, then said to Kiana, "He should recover- he'll be sore for awhile, though."