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[Revealing Embers]



16 Evening Star 4E202

It was in silence that Emaarion and Belwas made their way back toward camp accompanied by the Khajiit and Dunmer woman who served as the healer’s bodyguard. Emaarion had done the talking, bringing to bear all his high born charm and diplomacy in acquiring the healer’s services. He told them only that they’d been ambushed on the river and that two of their party were badly in need of healing, earning a raised eyebrow from Belwas when he made it clear that price wouldn’t be an issue but Belwas had no objections when Emaarion made it clear that payment would be withheld until after services were rendered. The appearances of the two men gave credence to their story. The Altmer’s battle axe still dripped coagulating blood and his fully armored person was splashed with crimson and the dirt and grime of a hard fought battle. The mage Dunmer’s gloves had long since been discarded, having been destroyed by the volley of destruction spells he’d launched at their attackers, reigning no less than hell upon them in the frenzy of the fight, but the sleeves of his plated leather coat bore scorch marks and the stench of sulfur, molten steel and burnt flesh hung around him. He, too, stood armed with a glass mace to which bits of skin, bone and brain matter still clung.

Once the agreement was made, the four made their way back to the camp with Emaarion leading and Belwas bringing up the rear. It was clear by the way they watched the woods around them and the tension in their bodies that they were prepared for a repeat of earlier events. The men kept their own council, neither trusting anyone outside of their circle. Belwas had made no secret of his irritation that Soren wasn’t there to handle the matter personally prior to enlisting the healer, but said nothing once the healer was in their presence.

The glow of the fire ahead was a welcome sight, but neither were prepared for what greeted them when they broke the tree line and stepped into the camp’s perimeter. There, seated on a log, was a wildly disheveled Alavesa with an equally unkempt Rieldunai fully awake and smiling, lounging between her legs, leaning back against her with his arms draped over her thighs. Belwas’ first response to seeing Rieldunai not only awake but somewhat lively was to look around for Veren.

Emaarion approached Rieldunai and Alavesa warily, his eyes watching the pirate. When he spoke, however, it was to the Khajiit. “Apparently, we only have one grievously injured party. It is still one, isn’t it, Belwas?”

Belwas walked over to the tent where Veren and Rieldunai had been left to rest and looked in to find Veren still unconscious, then looked back to the others, nodding to Emaarion. “Aye. And the sooner we get to him, the better.”

Emaarion’s look promised that Rieldunai and Alavesa would be explaining Rieldunai’s recovery later, then he turned his attention to the healer and her guard. “He’s over there. In that tent.”

Belwas motioned the healer over. “Come on, then. Get on with it.”


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