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[b][color=gainsboro][sub][u][b]	E V E R T O N	      				     [/b][/u][/sub][/color][/b]

A slim, cloaked individual walked the road of trade leading to Everton, in his hands an extensive map of the southern-most kingdoms and his place of origin, Vesh. On the map itself were inconspicuous notes of ink signifying his planned stops and route to Ithell. Bringing a hand and tracing his planned course on the map with a single lithe index finger, he ran the route through his head again as he continued walking along the road, occasionally looking up from his map to see if there was anything ahead. The silhouette of the town could be seen in the distance, a welcome sight to Uriel's golden eyes. He broke in to a smile, knowing that rest would be coming to him soon. He could feel it now; a nice, cozy bed with covers, a private room, resting his tense back... it was soothing to imagine. He let out a contented sigh as he looked back down to his map, folding it and placing it back in his satchel. 

[color=gainsboro]"Has it really only been a few days?"[/color] Uriel whispered under his breath to himself, in quiet amazement of how the trip had felt like months had passed. Time seemed to slow down when he was on the road, although the feeling was petering out as that very time ticked away from him. He could remember the day he left his home in Vesh so clearly, having been excited for the first time in many weeks then for the adventure he had planned to go on. He hadn't told his parents, instead leaving a written letter for them in his study. He already knew what they would say, their disapproval would be expected, nay, [i]required[/i] of their roles. His decision to leave without his bodyguard, however, was the most unexpected decision he had made. He longed for the intellectual conversations he had with Ethelia, and he didn't need to see her replacement to know that that was lost to him. 

Hearing the telltale signs of civilization in his immediate vicinity, Uriel stopped, raised his head and looked around his environment to find that he had entered Everton just a few moments ago, having been too absorbed in his own thoughts to realize the fact sooner. Billows of smoke flowed out of the chimney of the tavern across from him, the solace of the lighting inside calming his nerves. The eccentric scholar walked across the road and towards the front door of the tavern, entering inside and attempting to take in what would have been his abode for the night. He could scarcely believe his eyes as an intense fight between a strange being and monster hunters took place, his own feet frozen on the spot. An elegant display of speed, power, and ferocity had taken center stage, and in the matter of a minute, nearly the full squad of experienced monster hunters was slaughtered. The crimson blood of the hunters, their limp bodies on the floor were all seared in to his memory as he covered his mouth with a hand, to prevent himself from screaming. 

His entire body shook with fear as he saw the daemon, mentioned as such by the deceased hunters themselves, holding up the last member of the squad by the neck. He couldn't make out the words it had spoken to him as he was hardly able to keep control of his senses as it was, but the hunter had distracted him, zapped him with some form of magic, and bolted out the back door. It left the terrified Uriel in the tavern with the very disgruntled, annoyed daemon. Thoughts began to come to his mind again as his fear reached a crescendo. Without the food and rest he should have had at Everton, he wouldn't be able to continue his journey with confidence. He couldn't defend himself from the powerful creature with a simple dagger, and even the hunters the daemon had killed had more experience then he did in fighting techniques. The only option he had here was diplomacy, and that was [i]if[/i] it could listen to reason. A wave of dread flowed over his body as he removed the hand from his mouth and tried to open his mouth to speak, to say anything. He was only able to make meek whimpering noises for a minute or two, his eyes glancing to the dead owner, slumped behind the counter with blood dribbling down his chest.

[color=gainsboro]"W-what do you want... from all this?"[/color] Uriel was able to weakly question, dragging out his words as he looked over the aftermath of the death the daemon had wrought. A terrifying thought that occurred to him in that moment was that if Everton fell, then a great deal of the south would be threatened as a result; including his home. With what little courage he was able to muster, he brought his hands down to his steel dagger, pulling it from its sheath to grasp it with both of his hands for stability, and positioning it in front of him, pointing it towards the demon. It wouldn't look threatening in the slightest as the young man could hardly keep the dagger straight, his hands shaking horribly from the situation he had found himself in. [color=gainsboro]"I-I can't..."[/color] He spoke as some tears went down his face, feeling as if he was about to sentence himself to death by declaring these next words, [color=gainsboro]"...allow you to go any further."[/color]