Ellarian blankly stared at the captain as he leaned back against the wall. He wanted to spit. Royalty was never a good thing. Fattened up by soft lands and thinking with a cushioned brain, most kings that he had seen had no right to be called rulers. Even in his time the king had been of the cowardly stock, hiding within the safe confines of his palace while he sent legions of men to their deaths. The campaign to the north had been ill advised and portents and omens aplenty had warned them of the folly. And yet the king had driven them on. The vague memory tainted the hard earned victory with bitter hatred. Apparently even now, a coward was on the throne as he recalled the Captain's earlier comments. "You said that the King had refused previous calls for reinforcements?" Ellarian asked calmly as he fixed the Captain with his stony gaze. Like deer caught in the torchlight, the Captain simply stood stock still before nodding. "The king believed our claims a hoax and unsubstantiated..." he admitted quietly. "Did he ever check?" Ellarian prompted. The Captain remained silent. "I will ride out as soon as the wind dies down," he declared as he walked away, before stopping in the doorway. "Captain...what is your name?" he asked as an afterthought, looking back. Startled, the Captain saluted as he cleared his throat. "Mellyrn, Sir," he said proudly, "Captain Albury Mellyrn."
"Mellryn...you have potential," Ellarian said before turning away, "do not squander it always under the reign of a fool."

Borrowing a horse from the stables, a strong draft stallion that could hold his weight without collapsing, Ellarian began trotting towards the exit. The wind had died down by now and though the outside of the fort was covered with the hellpowder, the inside remained uncompromised. With nothing but the armor, shield, map and banner, Ellarian prepared to begin his journey. Hopefully the capital remained in the same direction as it had all those cycles ago. Music echoed throughout the halls as the liquor rations were doubled and the men celebrated their hard earned win. Ellarian couldn't blame them. From what he had heard they had been under siege for days, weeks even, with no relief in sight. As he gently tugged the reins of his horse, he began musing to himself. Was it this dire in other areas of the Empire? What had befallen it so badly that they could not afford to send a small detachment of soldiers away to check a vital fort?

As he approached the door, he was met by Captain Mellyrn and a small unit of cavalry. "Sir," he greeted, holding out a hand in greeting. Dismounting with a loud clang, Ellarian approached and grasped it firmly before banging it onto his chest, which the Captain reciprocated. It was an old warriors salute, mostly fallen out of use but the veterans often used this to distinguish each other. And it was only reserved for those who had earned their trust. "I have prepared a small squad of soldiers to guide you on your journey to the capital," he said, somewhat melancholically as they released their arms. Ellarian shook his head. "No, keep your men," he replied as he pet his horse, "you are in dire enough straits without losing more troops. This horse and a map are enough aid for my journey." The captain motioned to argue, but caught his tongue. Even if it had only been for a day, he knew that his stubbornness was near legendary in proportion. Bowing his head, he allowed Ellarian to pass. "We will meet again, Captain," the hero said as he passed, "on my word as a soldier."