Leif looked over his shoulder for what felt like the hundredth time to make sure he wasn't being followed. Not seeing anyone but sure he'd run into the royal guard any moment, he missed the dark form that rose out of the alley shadows before it was too late. He only managed to raise his scythe a fraction before the form reached him stepping from the darkness.
Serra stood, eyebrows raised with an amused smirk planted firmly on her face at his paranoia. She glanced at his raised scythe, eyebrows reaching a bit higher,
"Elom help me if you're going to protect us out there", she mumbled.
Leif's cheeks turned crimson as he stowed his tool.
"It's not like I have access to the royal armory, it's all I have and I told you this is a bad idea. If you don't think I----"
Serra's hand came to rest on his arm cutting him off.
"Leif, relax I'm only kidding" she giggled, "I wouldn't be going if I didn't believe in our mission, in us", she squeezed his arm, "In you" She finished before stepping away.
As the blood from his cheeks rushed else ware at her touch, accelerated by her faith in him, he quickly followed after her before things got too... uncomfortable in his stillness. It wasn't long before they reached the city gate: two thirty foot solid oak doors framed on either side by watchtowers equipped with the royal army's best remaining archers and bordered by a large mote requiring a draw bridge for entry. Clearly it was meant to keep those unwanted out... or in.
Serra led him along the shadowed base of the city wall to the foundation of the nearest guard tower. As he saw no way of exit, Leif was about to voice his concern when Serra pointed to a grate and moved toward it. Leif followed, and could soon hear the sound of moving water coming from beyond the bars. Serra motioned they would slip between the bars and head into the depths beyond when Leif began to point out that they were about to enter the sewer. Until she flashed him a look that shouted a challenge to his manhood. He shut his mouth and followed.
Though the space between the outflow grate bars were narrow, Serra's slight frame had no problem slipping between. Though bulk was not Leif's problem, his height, exceptional for his age and even for the men of Eloterra, known for their size, prevented easy access. After many tense moments of carful maneuvering, coaxing, direction and finally exasperated comments on the brink of insults from Serra, Leif made it through with a bruised body and several scrapes, yet nothing as severe as the damage to his ego.
The watch fires burned bright and it took careful and calculated movements for them to mimic the flickering of the flames, keeping to their shadows to avoid detection. After what felt like eternity, they were free of the fire's burning sight. Another hour of travel through the farmland that briefly bordered the outskirts of the kingdom, dodging patrols and the few patrons that dared take residence outside the walls took them to the edge of the kingdom and into the wilderness. The moorlands spread out before them, reaching to the mountain forests further north at the base of the great Temple Mount, lit in the night by the first moon and its host of stars. The undulating hills rose and fell like rogue waves frozen in time, hiding treacherous marshland and other wild terrors in the midst of their terrestrial swells. Even with the absence of dragons Leif thought, their land was still relentless, at war to the natural order, mankind now solely at the top of the food chain, yet on the brink of extinction.
Leif shook his head, knowing any negative thought would only cloud his mind, which now was his greatest weapon and needed to be sharp if they were going to have any chance of survival, let alone finding Serra's father Oryk.
"Soooooo", Leif dragged out uncertain if Serra's assertiveness of the night had quelled, "Where exactly are we headed. No one's heard from your father since he left and ---"
