[center] [color=f26522]Reinold Sul’athar[/color], the[color=fff79a] Outcast[/color]. [color=00aeef](MAIN)[/color][/center]

[center][h1]Artis Port[/h1][/center]
Reinold looked up at the sky as he rolled onto his back. The glaring sun still beat down on him; baking him in his own armor. With a pained groan, the Templar managed to stand up. Bruises and cuts aside, he was still in one piece. While he would certainly be sore once he had time to rest, he did not plan to recover in a cell. He left his sword, and walked over to Jameson, folding his arms over his chest. While the Templar’s wounds were unaffected by Yy’Sil’s healing, the city guard would need her to mend what she could. If they were arrested, this poor sod was the closest thing to an alibi that they had.

[color=CEA2FF]"Hopefully it'll be fixed. I just hope he doesn't dare strain himself...It could re-open.."[/color]

“[color=f26522]Just get him well enough to see tomorrow.[/color]” Once he was sure that Sil was done healing, Reinold lifted the city guard with a grunt. Whether it was Jameson being heavy, or the Templar was growing weak, carrying the body was difficult. As if on queue, the barking of orders resounded through the air. “[color=f26522]I know you saved my life, [/color]” Reinold said, “[color=f26522]and that we just saved yours, but I’ll snap your neck in a heartbeat if you so much as whimper to give us away. [/color]” He walked back into the inn at a brisk pace. Though they committed no crime, he knew that he and Yy’Sil would be questioned for some time. At the end of that, prison was still possible.

As he walked through the inn, he looked over his shoulder at Yy’Sil. “[color=f26522]If you had any other plans for us here, they will have to wait for another day. [/color]” Once he emerged from the inn, he was the center of attention for the crowded streets. Screaming and explosions had a penchant for stealing attention. Muttering an oath under-breath, Reinold walked quickly through the crowd. He was not so bothered by the looks of panic, confusion and anger. He could only hope that Yy’Sil was not, either.

“What are you doing with that guard?” one man asked, stepping in front of Reinold – a poor mistake. The Templar cocked his head back and slammed it into the obstructor’s nose. The man was knocked onto his ass, and he crawled out of the way without another word. So much for slipping away into the crowd. As Reinold moved as quickly as the crowd parted for a man with blood splattered on his face – carrying a city guard – several other guards emerged from the inn in the trio’s wake.

The Templar stopped as a pair of guards moved in front of them. No words were needed. Reinold remained still as Artis’ finest surrounded him. They did not seem particularly interested in Yy’Sil – the them, there was only one culprit to apprehend.

“Put Jameson down,” one guard demanded.

“[color=f26522]You’re going to arrest me. [/color]”

“Did you think you could come here, blow things up and leave?” The guard scoffed. “Of course you’re under arrest, you dimwit. Now, put Jameson down or I’ll kill you where you –“

Reinold walked up to the guard, and let the blade rest at his throat. “[color=f26522]Try me. [/color]”