Elias felt his body connect to the ground below, not a peaceful end as the knight had promised, but rather landing into the mire that he had just been knelt on a moment ago. The air came bursting into his lungs as his vision slowly came back to him. He saw the writing figure of the Knight clawing at his face, at the arrow shift that had pierced his eye. Adrenaline shot Elias up and into action, scrambling over to the still-unconscious Torben, dragging him through the mud with the last of his strength. Elias saw the knight had retreated into the thick undergrowth which surrounded the clearing they were in, as another arrow ricocheted off the brute's armor. He stopped dragging Torben and turned around to see Ulric wearily on his feet, exhaustion almost taking over him as his arms started to shake.

   Ulric lowered the bow and made his way to his two companions, knowing that this respite would only be brief, and they needed to act on it. His body still ached horribly from battle, and he aided Elias in getting Torben loaded onto the wagon, with Elias jumping up to quickly shift his cloak and backpack on. Ulric had always been curious as to what the sorcerer hid there, but this was neither the time nor the place for that. Wordlessly Elias crawled through the opening he had made earlier, and as Ulric closed what was left of the cart's doors it lurched forward. Ulric was forced to sit down. As they trundled along Ulric tended to Torben, dragging his backpack towards him as he carefully lifted a small flask which he took a small swig off then poured some onto Torben's wounds then his own. He winced from both the bitter taste and the burning sensation on his wounds. Slowly and methodically, he cleaned their injuries and bandaged them as best he could before slumping back, exhaustion finally taking over him.

    When Torben woke up, for a time all he could do was lay there, feeling the familiar creak and rumble of the cart as it made its way over the rough terrain. What filled his view was the uninteresting roof of the cart, and the smell of decaying flesh filled him with fear. A fear he could not place, was it that he had died, that this was fated to be his end? Or that danger was close? Whatever it was, it was responsible for paralyzing Torben for a time, until he could stand it no longer. He tried to raise himself up, but the effort was too much, just when he was about to fall someone leaned over him and helped him up.

"You've been out of it sometime" Elias said, groaning with effort until Torben sat up. A flask was handed to him, to which Torben drank from, the water clearing his throat. He had almost drained it when it was snatched from him. "Leave some for the rest of us"

"Sorry" Torben said when the look of disgust spread across the older man's face, throwing back the last of the water himself with a pained gulp. "What happened?"

"We survived, just about" Elias answered, taking the seat opposite Torben, which was when he noticed the hole in the floorboards where the dead assassin had been. The smell of decaying flesh made sense to him now. "Somehow our target has received word of us, it would appear he has tried to strike at us first"

"I wouldn't have imagined this task being so hard" Torben added, which got a scowl from Elias.

"We've been sent by the Queen herself on this mission, of course it wasn't going to be simple"

  Torben was about to retort but fell short of something to say. He focused on his breathing and tried to forget the anger he held onto, for almost failing his mission. It was only when he noticed Elias looking, that he realized he was clenching and unclenching his fists, to which he consciously put an end to. "How close are we to InnMarsh?"

"Well, that's not so simple now. This cart is on its last legs, and we've pushed the horses as much as they can be, we'll be on foot before soon" he says, returning to where he had lain before Torben had stirred. "Get some rest lad, we'll need it, it'll be some time before we reach our goal".

   Sure enough, as the first rays of light pierced the sky, one of the two horses collapsed. Ulric pulled on the reigns to calm the second who buckled in fear and confusion. With a body that was sore but rested he jumped off the cart and inspected the collapsed horse. It was still breathing, rasping as it cried in pain. The road had been unkind to them, and their hooves bled with the toil they had endured. Where they had stopped was just before a small bridge that crossed over a river. Knowing this was the end of the line for them, Ulric cut the reigns free, standing back as the stronger horse moved to the river slowly, the weaker horse falling into a slumber it may not awaken from.

   Ulric grasped his bow in one hand, the previous ambush setting him on edge. Since the war, he had come close to death on many occasions, but none as close as the night previous. Even in the early morning, the stories his mother used to tell him came to him, ones of trolls under bridges and dragons battling each other and always in search of the gold of man. All nonsense to keep kids from leaving their beds at night, but ones that nonetheless played in his mind. He wished she was still alive, that their village would be safe given all that they had sacrificed. This mission would ensure that would be a reality.

   From where they were, he knew that InnMarsh was about a day or two away.  It was a bustling town which was neighboured by rival towns Clywd and Gwersyllt, the city of Wrecsam south of it. He had only ever heard of it in passing, whether it was a soldier in their ranks who came from that town, or wishing they lived there, as it was a secluded and overlooked settlement. Few conscripts save for the ones who matched away from the settlement, hailed from InnMarsh. The Queen's presence, and therefore her laws, were not felt in these areas.

"We're on foot from now on" Ulric announced, seeing his two companions emerge from the cart. Elias gave a grim nod and focused his attention on the dying horse, a twist of his hand putting the creature out of its suffering. "Pack lightly" he added, following the horse to the river to replenish his flasks.

   The two did as they were told, Torben channeling his Chi, just as he was taught. Despite the majority of his training being non-combative, the grandmaster had bestowed some knowledge to him in the art of warfare. 'Remember Torben! In war, rest is seldom found. Grasp at it with both hands and maintain your physical and mental form. Rest and live to fight another day!'. Ulric had always regarded the sight of Torben channeling his Chi as an odd sight and proceeded to continue rounding up the last of the supplies, only Elias could feel the power and energy shifting towards the shorter man. He found it calming to see, a form of power very much opposed to his destructive powers. Elias shrugged this off and packed what he could, only slightly adjusting the harness slightly so his pack was snug against his body. The thought of what he carried brought those feelings of guilt and pain back. He just hoped he'd live long enough to see his prize when this mission was over.