The stuck up royal let out another groan of intense force. This time it was directed at the great crowds that filled up the rather modest-sized streets, and more specifically the noise. She was certainly not if this commoner's world, and found herself both uncomfortable with the various unrefined odours as well as the extremely rigid logistics required to manoeuver through the masses. In short, she felt claustrophobic. Nothing like the massive halls in her home, without the gentle, lingering scent of myrrh and perfume and the loyal guards that'd take their own lives of she ordered it. [color=ed1c24]"Phillipe! I [i]demand[/i] you to clear a path for me! I wish not to soil my exquisite clothing with filthy, smelly, sweaty bodies in this town forsaken by Elimine herself!"[/color] She ordered her retainer, arms crossed by her chest, and a rather stern expression. One thing was clear, she could not keep her voice down, and despite the bustling life there were still those that gave her a hostile look. Good thing she didn't notice. The poor retainer that so desired to not catch any attention had already failed that task. Keeping a groan of his own contained, the sage peered onto the bulk of people. He had a skilled eye atleast, catching the cautious eye of a lone swordsman and a robed man running to the closest bookstore. Interesting individuals, those, he noted. But kept his discovery a secret for now. With a sigh, he flicked open a tome hidden within his robe and gently pointed at a building. Within seconds, the building flashed up into a fire. Subtle, he was not. Ellynorah blinked surprised at his chosen method, though quickly gave a shrug. This town was not her own business, nor did it even belong to her beloved mother and acceptable father. Who cares if a house catches fire anyways? And it worked as well, the crowds stopped up and gazed at the burning house in some kind of enchanting awe, but it mattered not to her. She could now tap towards the main forum of the town atop her horse without having to wait for old people to cross the streets. And that she intended to do. With a quick jab into the horse's flank, she drove the steed off and down the path while whistling a tune to herself, and with the poor Etrurian General running behind her. The act caused much commotion and it seemed there were more people in the crowd that used this as a chance to break free. One of them were a robed male, hardly breaking 5'5 in stature and with his body slightly bent forward, as of crooked and shy of light. Another was a seemingly panicking man wearing the mark of the town counsel, his feet lightly sprinting down the streets. His eyes were wrought in fear, uncertain to what, while carrying a large scroll in his arms. The retainer noted both, and added them to his registry of interesting people.