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The forest obeyed no one. It was neither slave nor servant, but rather the overlord that watched them all. Clothed in silken shadows, the green intertwined with whispers of the woods. Songs of what lay beneath the dappled sun and dark. No rhythm to their chorus, but there needn't be one. A rise and fall of chirps and snarls and rushes. A song that followed no rules. Gone were the laws, save for the primal instinct of kill or be killed. There was a wildness in the trees. Something alive with a tense energy. Watching like the hunter. Hiding like the prey. Beautiful like a painting. A masterpiece of dappled greens and browns and blacks and whatever lay scattered on the master's pallet. Something, Silias learned as slender shrubs faded to thick trunks, that one will never be accustomed to.

The Sahib stared out the carriage's small window, a thoughtful look on his face as the scenery tumbled by. In his left hand danced a coin, falling and rising over his slender fingers. Up and up and down once more. It was more of a habit than anything. Something to do when the soul was distant but the body needed something to do. His body swayed with every small bump, the carriage unused to such terrain. It was a small little thing, with few adornments and a tight, uncomfortable interior. But it was cheap and inconspicuous--a necessary sacrifice for such a...[i]hefty[/i] load.

His fingers faltered for a moment and the coin slipped, saved only by the quick snatching of his right hand. Then, like an unfaltering machine, the coin was back dancing across his hand. The delivery. Nearly an ox's weight of iron, with a quarter as much Valdium. Valuable treasures for a valuable ally. As calm as he was, a slight shiver of anxiety crept up his spine at the thought of such a delivery. The trip had been calm enough, the only set back being a dead knight from an Orc attack, but he had learned that such fanciful whimsies did not last long. Fate was cruel, but luck was crueler. Still, there was no point in turning back. Only a day's left of travel remained, and he [i]needed[/i] that Count. In a world of treachery and bloodshed, allies were important, and this one was no exception.

"Milord?" the silvery voice pierced Silias' thoughts, dragging him back beneath the shadowy forest canopy.

Silias turned sharply, his gaze meeting that of an elegant, young half-elf. "Val'rasar," his bronze voice rumbled pleasantly, the pleasant lilt of an accent evident as he spoke, "are you in need of something?"

"Merely wondering if you were alright." Val'rasar bowed her head slightly, her pale hair hiding her eyes as her gaze flitted ever so briefly to the two others that accompanied the carriage ride. "You seem rather...distracted."

Silias chuckled softly. "Have no worries, my dear. Just lost in thought."

He turned back to the window, though his eyes flickered to the others that sat with him. There were three of them, the Sahib not included. All were, to his comfort, familiar faces. Though half-elves were rarity in the deserts of Arad Luin, that did little for chance to bring Val'rasar and Silias together. Fierce and fiery, it was her skill with a blade that brought the fierce warrior to Silias' attention. Since then had been only a couple of years since her hiring as a retainer, yet in that time she had proved her worth on countless occasions. Sitting beside her, with the features of a withered apple and the body of a long dead corpse, wheezed Advisor Nezar Sarasala. Though as ancient as the woods they traversed in, the Rasheek had been employed by the House Rahmin since before Silias was born, guiding his parents before the...incident. Across from them, sitting beside Silias, was Run. No last name, no first name. Only a title of what he could do: Run. The servant boy was small, even for a child of eight. He grew sick quickly and seldom spoke, but he worked hard and followed orders.

"[i]Soldiers, halt![/i]"

The rough voice cut through the still air of the woods, silencing the buzz amongst the undergrowth. With a lurch and shudder, the carriage grounded to a stop. A clamor of armor sounded outside, growing louder before a bearded knight poked his head through the window. "Rest stop, milord. Best stretch your limbs before we go. Only a day's journey left."
Sighing with relief, Silias rubbed his back and grimaced as a loud [i]pop[/i] was heard. After hours of rocky terrain, it was a relief to finally stop. Run hurried out the carriage and circled around to open Silias' door. The Sahib's legs wobbled as he descended. The sweet must of leaves and rot and some more drifted around him, carried by the dancing wind. His body turned with it, then froze.

There, with a dress of vines and a crown of debris, was an outcropping of ruins.

 It was dark and intimidating, yet no immediate danger was clear. Shadows dwelled beneath the stones, amassing into a darkness that grew deeper into the remains. Something was...off. What, he did not know. But the feeling of unease hung in the air like a storm cloud, bearing over the small party of travelers. 

"Beauty, ain't she?" the Knight from before grunted, following his gaze. "But, ah, I wouldn't go running in there if I was you. No offense, Milord!"

Silias blinked hard and tore his gaze away from the visage of rock. "And why not?"

"Thing musta be ancient. Y'dunno what's gotta be in it. Rats, traps, disease; not to mention that the stone's 'bout to collapse."

"Hmmph." The grunt was more interested than affirming, and his eyes shifted back to the ruin. The dark atmosphere remained, cold and foreboding. But at the same time, inviting. As if there was something there for him, waiting patiently amongst the rubble. His fingers rubbed against his coin, the markings nearly faded by the constant playing. Without tearing away his gaze, he flipped the coin, caught it in his palm, and traced the upward facing side. [i]Heads.[/i]

Silias finally turned away, facing his emerging companions and the platoon of Knights. "You," he nodded to the bearded knight, "Half your men are to set up camp and rest. Maybe cook something up if you can. Others will guard the camp. Attack anything that so much as seems dangerous or strange. Run, help with the horses." The group split at the command, rushing off the build a fire or whatever they needed to do. The bearded knight turned to join them, only for a dark hand to grab his arm. "Wait," demanded Silias. "I have another request." His eyes drifted to the ruins. Closer and closer, they called. Farther and farther. "I want you to gather a small team," he whispered, bright eyes intense. "Scout ahead. Don't worry." A smile crept up his face. "I will be right behind."