The eyes of the raven, a bird larger than even others of its kind, reflected the dryad-like features of Arassel as it twitched its head from one side to another, taking in both the Wood Elf and the wooded area in which both she and the corvid now took rest - too thin to be called a forest or an entire woodland, yet thick enough to not be simply one or two trees. It was here that they had been since the bird had found her not a week past, poised as she was to take the life of her next meal, and delivered to her a message that he had memorised from a piece of discarded paper; so silent had his ascent been that she still managed to deliver death to her prey, kneeling beside it and reciting the prayer of the hunter even as she slit its throat and listened to her companion in the same breath.

At first she had thought of reconsidering her choice to meet with this 'Captain' Kayden, a human name for certain, as she had neither been invited personally to this meeting nor had much desire to take up the occupation of a sellsword. Nevertheless, after much mulling it over, and deep conversation with Thrathnere - that being the name of her raven - it seemed that such an opportunity would produce more opportunities in turn, and therefore she should take it as a blessing from Sendarius. If this man had no desire accept her into his company, and thus rejected her skills along with her personally, then it would be a wasted journey to this ruined tower and little else.

Over the span of the next week, not being far from her desired location as luck would have it, she had crossed what land there was by hopping between one wooded area and another, able to blend into all but the sparsest of cover given by the terrain. It was this, coupled with her ingrained paranoia and cautiousness when traversing a foreign land, that had kept her alive and relatively unseen by those she had passed and may have intended to harm her; she recalled in her mind a particularly fat human, a merchant most probably, squinting his eyes at her exact position for a good half-an-hour before, finally tired of trying to see things that he only half thought he had seen, had carried on his merry way to the nearest settlement and left her in peace.

"I do realise I may have to go in there!" She replied to the raven, her tone light but sharp, his squawking showing his displeasure at remaining in the high branches of this tree for longer than needed, "yes, I saw the big-nosed Gnome, what of it?" Further caws and a flurry of wings convinced her that too much time had been spent where she was, she needed to move. Perhaps the oddest thing, for someone seeing clearly the two opposed sides of the argument, would be that neither of them were speaking a discernable language - the Elf was making as many squawking noises as her obsidian-black friend, and it no doubt seemed highly comedic.

In a series of fluid motions she was no longer within the confines of the tree, long and powerful legs carrying her toward the tower, with the loping gait and lightness of foot expected of a big cat and its padded paws, as her eyes moved quickly but without any hurry about her. It took all of five minutes for her to seemingly appear from the undergrowth, even in the mostly open landscape, like some elemental figure come to life and preparing to hire themselves out as a killer for pay...

She noted that the sky had darkened as she made her way past the unnaturally tall Dwarf stood next to the doorway, ignoring him completely in an act of Elven arrogance rather uncommon to her but not to her race, congratulating herself internally on arriving precisely when the note had said to. From ahead she could see a room, illuminated by what she believed were probably torches, flooded with a blaze of light and a shout like a clap of thunder rolling down the stairs toward her. Not hearing the an outburst of violent activity, she correctly assumed that their was no combat taking place ahead, striding into the room in time to see a grinning human, a [b]fiery[/b] Dwarf, and an assortment of others all milling about.

Noticing only one other really imbibing much, and that a nearby flagon of what smelt distinctly like ale was not being held by another, she slunk over to it and raised it high; it was certainly not [i]good[/i] ale, not like that brewed in Kaelic lands, but it would have to do, and do it did! In one stretched-out draught she managed to empty the flagon, placing it gently back onto the table and resting her chin the hands folded over the horn of her longbow, gazing expectantly at the one she assumed to be Kayden.