A group collected at the gates like workers performing a task. Faruq followed the pattern, mind more consumed by the raiding party and their shameful display. His hand rested on the bone pommel of his blade. Drawing out of anger had been a mistake that quickly might have ended this brief departure from his quest. Still, what was a knight who did not stand against injustice? Perhaps a knight that lived longer. Faruq looked back onto the hamlet torn asunder with their citizens laid in the streets dead or dying. A horrid sight, but a fraction of what the Dominion would bring.
 
The conversation of daedra worship and murder did little to interest Faruq. While the altmer argued the definition of murder, he found his thoughts affected more by what occurred only a few moments ago. In light of countless innocents run down for no reason other than force their hands this Cyrendil felt the need to justify his crimes. Before Faruq could let vent his own frustrations the tattooed breton with a mind for humour spoke up. The words cut and cooled, offering a view not unlike Faruq’s, but following critique with crude comedy. Faruq might have laughed if not for the intimidating stature of the orc. Fortunately, the arrival of both the healer and the fiery haired imperial made further response unnecessary.
 
“We’ll need a plan to get this guy out. Anyone got a plan?” the healer began. Right quick her attention broke and posed as if to pluck a fluttering butterfly from out the air, she introduced herself as Gaela.
 
Faruq drew a deep and silent breath. Within moments of meeting one had begun debating the righteousness of killing a young girl only a few nights before and the other, distracted more by butterflies than the horrors behind them, declared herself as much a healer as an arsonist. A far cry from sharing the rode with Cyrodiilic nobles and seasoned soldiers struggling to protect life and liberty.  He thought too of how many of them continued on this plain. The thought sent him away until his lungs burned and his sword hand drifted to a pouch strapped to his belt. Suddenly conscious of himself, Faruq released the breath and returned his hand to rest upon the pommel of his sword. He waited for the skinny imperial dressed in rags to finish his piece. 

[color=bc8dbf]"Look around,"[/color] Faruq exclaimed with a hand waving over Meir Thorvale. [color=bc8dbf]"Why any of us were imprisoned means fuck-all. We shan't have a chance to return to our lives lest we act now. It matters little to me who defies our [i]saviour[/i] and who means to accomplish the task set before us. Camlorn is a ways from here. I wager there'll be time to plan and bicker on the way. Besides, strategies come easier over a map and ale."[/color] Faruq glanced to the ragged imperial with those words, then pointed a finger to the smoke rising from the hamlet. [color=bc8dbf]"What say you all we leave here before this Shornhelm fellow sends the guard?"[/color]