The elven girl had followed through the dimly lit fortress, moving beneath the sconces, from one pool of light to the next until they reached their destination.  The bowels of the fortress were like a living thing to her, and it was preparing for war.  She had never seen so many forges being bellowed, nor heard such a cacophony.  It stung her pointed ears but she put aside such petty complaints less her guards see opportunity to cuff her roughly in some direction or another.

When finally the elven girl was brought before her chaperone she washed her gaze over Vatikar's figure and was suitably impressed.  He was in possession of a broad set of shoulders and would make for a great protector.  However, that face...  It looked like the forges had regurgitated molten steel directly upon his face.  Perhaps she was exaggerating, but by Sharess' sweet tits nobody was ever going to call the man handsome.

The chamberlain's following words were something of a balm to Assallya and she nodded, fully realizing what the man had said.  He needn't have said anything.  Assallya had already figured out that if she didn't find this escaped rebel she may as well not return.

"You would not happen to possess a pan of wrought silver?" Assallya asked of the pair, hoping that she might be able to scry out these rebels.

Failing that she was going to need to craft some sort of divining rod.