Marren’s eyes were set, wide eyed on the wild woman as the Evian words rushed out of her tongue. For some reason in his mind all he expected of her non-Kantilian speech was wild gibberish, not that the sharp and forceful Kantilian tongue wasn’t, just that by her looks he didn’t think she was capable of more complex speech. 

Caught so unawares as he was the insult went over his head. 

“You’re more civilized than I thought, Wild-Zoran” He corrected himself as he addressed her “How do you know the speech of Eve?”. He shook his head “Nevermind, not important right now”

He turned to the freed prisoner, hesitated for a moment, and then handed him a dagger. A simple, Kantilian dagger found in the uniform he stole. “Here, it should work for now”

He looked at Zoran, “Let us move” he nodded to the direction of what he hoped was the exit to this godsforsaken place.

They moved with swiftness, Zoran, the now defunct translator and thier new attachment on tow. Up dank stairs and through dark corridors they went, not one window seen for at least half an hour but thankfully not a lot of guards as well, and those that were here were the new recruits, untrained and unwatchful, probably thinking there were no threats from the broken spirited and deranged prisoners. Marren avoided them when he could and only engaged when absolutely necessary. Multiple times he had to reign in their new tag-along, so zealous was he to spill Kantilian blood. 

Eventually with the luck and blessing of the gods the party made it out of the dungeons and into the castle proper. Here Marren was more familiar, though this was indeed a different castle he had been in many to know enough about the standard layout. Still, the Black Keep was something else. 

Contrary to its name it was a relatively well lit place on the inside with great roaring fires behind sinister black brazers, though Marren could hardly feel the warmth. It seemed to be the main throne room, made obvious by the large, wrought iron throne that rose out of the ground in the far center of the great hall. Huge banners were hung on the walls and pillars bearing the arms of the King of Kantle and his house and along with them the decaying corpses of slain enemies. Maren knew this, for he recognized at least a handful of them. They still wore some part of their Rosilian regalia. 

The throne room seemed empty but for a few guards and servants passing by, some giving them the odd glance but none making a move to stop them. Marren was thankful he had forced Rammus to wear at least a coat to hide his prisoners rags as he lead them through a side passage, intent on going the roundabout way to whatever accounted for a war room in this place. Though, knowing Kantle, the whole place was a war room. The war, or at least thats what Marren thought was keeping the guards light, seemed to benefit them for there were not many bodies patrolling the lit but cold halls and those that were were boys and young men, probably still in the midst of training. 

He searched room after room while pretending to lead his party on a 'patrol route' until he made it up the fifth floor where he saw something intriguing. As they made their way up the stairs Marren saw the same lit but cold hallways with adjacend rooms but in the center stood two guards, seemingly standing in front of one of the rooms. He quetly led the party behind a corner from which he could spy on the guards and after he did so he turned to Zoran. 

"I think there lies our quarry" he indicated to the guarded room. "No other room has such heavy guard". Though he said those words he once again felt his mind speaking differently [i]Could be the King's damn bedroom, or something else that requires guard[/i]. He did not share such thoughts with his companions. 

"Zoran, have you any way to dispatch the guard?"