Kyrtaar's journey to Baalor had been remarkably terrible. When it was determined the arrow sticking out of his back wasn't fatal, they left it in to tend to Mundhir's wounds. A rider had been kind enough to give him his horse, and went to ride in the wagon with the minotaur and 9, but it was still hell. Every time the horse stepped on uneven ground, or moved at a pace quicker than a trot he could feel it. When they finally reached the ruins, and only after the arrow was removed, was Kyrtaar finally able to sleep. It was the first night in a long time, that he slept without terrors. He slept for 12 hours, a long and dead sleep, almost unhealthily long for an Elf, who were known to sleep for only a few short hours a day. 
---
7 Days later, Ruins of some old place

[hider=Status] 
Health: Stiff in left arm, recovering, strong and well.
Inventory: Leather vest, cursed book.
[/hider]

Kyrtaar passed the days idly, growing in the strength, and was feeling for the most part, great. There was ambient sunlight he could sit in when he wished, and after a few requests, had been supplied with books to read. Standard texts but still, reading was reading. He chose to keep to himself for the most part, but when he desired company, he found the half-elf girl to be the most pleasant. He never divulged much information with her, nor did he press her for any, but he enjoyed the idle chat between books. Honestly, Krytaar was content with a warm bed, regular meals, and books to read after the jungle and escape, but was starting to grow restless now that his strength returned to him, bringing the night terrors back with them. Other than his current tendency to roll his left shoulder due to the soreness, one could no tell he had been in a fight for his life just a week ago.

On the seventh day, Kyrtaar was sitting in the sunlight, reading, when the prince entered. He hadn't seen him for a week, and remembered he was the man forcefully keeping him here. Kyrtaar looked up from his book, suddenly annoyed. And in the most grandiose speech and reminder of his royalty, he freed them, but continued with information about his poisoning, and continued with a request for aid. Kyrtaar sighed, and stood up, weighing the odds. The minotaur broke the ice by shouting some halfbrain-ed agreement on the condition he got to look at a war machine. 

Kyrtaar was about to speak up, when the eye patched man entered the room, smiling. Ever the happy man, Kyrtaar was astounded by the man's escape from the citadel, when he had literally run off by himself. He had honestly assumed the unnamed man had died. The forest creature was next, and again Kyrtaar found his gaze lingering, not unpleasantly so either. She talked of forest allies, and weighed in offering a guess at her age. But Kyrtaar knew the forest creatures to be fickle beings at best, and volatile at worst, but he would keep this to himself. Kyrtaar let his eyes linger on the girl for another second before stepping forward, and speaking. 

"I'll help, although I may regret it." Kyrtaar paused, and added. "You children of the earth lead such energetic, short lives." He finished.