Artur nodded and sheathed the elf's sword, and hung in on Revelations' saddle with a meaningful look. Apocalypse had managed to stand, and Artur felt a wave of gratitude for the stallion's health. He would have to carry half the saddlebags himself, but that would be fine. He loosely saddled Apocalypse, gathered both leads and set off into the forest without another word. Just before exiting the forest he stopped to straighten his robes and his long, flaxen hair. He would have to look the part, riding into the village.

"Can you carry those bags?" He asked the elf. Perhaps it would be too much, but . . . "It's not unusual for Guardians to have charges that travel with them as squires, and they may be more welcoming if they assume that you are a soul on the path to the Light. More welcoming than . . . others have been, in the past." Of course Artur was far too young to have acquired an official charge, but the villagers could wonder at that. He mounted Revelations and tied Apocalypse's lead to the horn of his saddle. He glanced down from his high perch at the scars on the elf's chest, "Can you close your robes or something?" 

The villagers had begun to gather in the streets, examining the damage done. Artur rode in from the east at a slow walk, with the dawn light breaking behind him, setting his hair and his gold-and-white robes aglow. The villagers would also be less likely to be shocked at Morgan's appearance if they couldn't clearly make out the details of their silhouette. Artur came up to the first huddle of villagers, who went silent and paused in their work, and dismounted.

"The Light brings the morning," he greeted them in the traditional way of the Guardians.

"And the morning brings us a Guardian. Were you here during the attack yesterday?" The young woman who spoke gestured at the damage in the side of an old stone building. Her lips had a twist to them that dared Artur to lie, and he suddenly felt very much his seventeen years as she looked him up and down. She was taller, and dark-haired and disarrayed and very, very lovely, even in her sleepless state.

"Yes, I was, with my, ah, charge. We arrived during the attack and did what we could. The chase took us into the woods, so please forgive us for not staying and introducing ourselves immediately, Madame . . . um . . . " he waited for her name, and tried very hard to stand still and dignified, and not like a little boy faced with a pretty girl.