[center][h3][u]Smor'Gen'Blok, Wor Tribe's Destroyed Hearth-site[/u]
[sub]3rd of Summer - 10:02 AM[/sub][/h3][/center]

	The Wor Barricade stood strong as Za'Kul talked, but there were murmurs hidden behind the sound of collapsing rock. The tunnel behind them did in fact lead back into the low-tunnels. It wouldn't take too long to find his way back towards the Kul hearth-site. The Wor before him had never bothered to delve into the dank lower tunnels personally, either. There was some disagreement between the Lok'Sha that lined the back of the group. 

	Some of them had seen his actions earlier, even if only for a moment. Others thought of him as nothing more than a brutish low-born dark-skin. Very few held no alignment, and merely wanted to [i]escape[/i] as soon as possible. But the Lok'Sha that stood in front of the group were the ones [i]speaking for them.[/i] The ground beneath Za'Kul and the tunnel's mouth began to give way. He had but a few moments to take action. Those in the back of the group had already stepped aside, or retreated on their own into the lower tunnels. The few Lok'Sha in the front stood high with their chests puffed out, and their eyes narrowed at their [i]inferior[/i] brother.

	"Fill Wor's head with lies! Aim to kill us all!" One of the men shouted, "Kill Hi'Wor! Sabotage tunnels!"

	The group behind the speaker grew thinner. It was just him, and two sympathizers that barred Za'Kul's exit now.

	"Never let [b]weak[/b] Kul, [b]traitor[/b] Kul, pass!"

	Behind Za'Kul, War'Da'Li's familiar voice roared across the cavern, overpowering the surrounding screams for only a moment as she slid down into the pit beneath her. A few of the Lok'Sha behind those who blocked Za'Kul's path stepped forward with pained expressions burned into their faces. They'd known her, more than they knew the son of the Wor's Chieftain.

	"Weak will die here! Kul and [b]Wor[/b] alike!"

[center][h3][u]Nillium Encampment, The Burroughs[/u]
[sub]3rd of Summer - 9:23 PM[/sub][/h3][/center]

	The captain was [i]fast.[/i] Had Paric moved even a moment later, he would have lost [i]his entire arm.[/i] The blade slipped past his shoulder harmlessly despite Locke's split-second decision, nearly nicking the Eldi's shoulder in the process. He didn't stop for long. Something rumbled from the pit of the swordsman's stomach and began to rise as his muscles went dormant. He took a step back and reached for his mouth frantically, stifling a series of heavy coughs until something licked at the back of his ankles. The pain only lasted for a moment before his limbs went stiff like iron pipes. Somehow, despite the some-odd 20000 volts coursing through his body, Locke managed to stand upright with his sword clamped firmly in his right hand. He dropped the hand that covered his mouth and clenched a bloody fist and a few red droplets leaked from his lips. Had he bitten his tongue? If that were the case, how was his hand already covered in so much blood?

	The Mop was not totally incapacitated, but his body wouldn't listen to him. The guards seemed ignorant of the little exchange in the alley way as well. This was the perfect chance for the two fugitives to escape, or...

[center][h3][u]Baeshri Pass, Caravan Centaurus[/u]
[sub]3rd of Summer - 10:29 PM[/sub][/h3][/center]

	"Haha, yeah, [i]unsettling.[/i] That doesn't even scratch the surface," Zay chuckled nervously, "We were [i]ambushed,[/i] like they knew we were coming down this path all along. Captain Geroldus over here had a similar experience on the southern trading route himself. Had his entire Caravan wiped out, and barely managed to crawl away with his life. If he hadn't found us-"

	"I would have died," Neal grunted.

	"Yeah. I'm surprised we were able to defend ourselves, honestly. Those cats [i]bombed[/i] our caravan and killed both the Venbu in seconds. We were lucky that they underestimated us." Zay rolled his eyes. "We fought them off, and now we're stranded. I was [i]about[/i] to order a patrol, but it's getting very dark. I don't doubt that those girls are still lurking nearby." He laughed to himself when he realized Rem had found a spot on the floor. "It suddenly feels a lot safer around here with you around though. Seems like a gift from above! Druids are an even [i]rarer[/i] sight than Myti, out in the wilds... Want something to eat?" Without waiting for a response, he turned to Flin and waved towards the storage room. "Flin! Gett'em something to eat."

[center][h3][u]Berganfont, Main Square[/u]
[sub]4th of Summer - 9:03 AM[/sub][/h3][/center]

	From behind the back wall of Lilith's Keg, the owner herself could be seen wrapping her snow-white apron around herself and tying the length of her hair back into a neat little bun. She caught a glimpse of Shane and smiled while mouthing the words '[i]one sec[/i]' as she prepped the kitchen with a little help from the kids.

	[sub]'[i]Go take his order while we get ready Peter!'[/i][/sub]

	On command, without as much as a peep of objection, Peter stampeded across the cobbled flooring and rushed to Shane's side with a pad of crust paper and a pencil. "Momma's out of meat. We can't do no steaks or nuffin' like that, sir," He mumbled. Peter was only 14 years old, and hardly the most refined speaker. He was actually a bit on the slow side, but that didn't stop him from trying his best around the kitchen.


[center][h3][u]Northern Marrenfall, Gybol's Cafe[/u]
[sub]4th of Summer - 10:55 AM[/sub][/h3][/center]

	The old man took a little longer than Nina expected.

	"The soup," he wheezed, "That one! It's second from the top?" Nina froze as he spoke, waiting for [i]Gybol[/i] to respond. For such a tough girl, she was pretty stubborn about acting like a [i]child.[/i] With both hands she motioned towards the front of the cafe.

	[i]"You heard him boss,"[/i] She whispered, [i]"Second from the top!"[/i] Nina had no idea what that meant, and didn't want to go out to check what the old guy was referring to. Memorizing the menu wasn't part of her job, but she had a habit of changing her responsibilities on a day-to-day basis.

	The old man cleared his throat and reached into his ragged coat for a small piece of paper, and a pencil, likely to occupy himself while he waited. While adjusting his glasses, he began to scratch the pencil across the paper carefully.

	"Can you keep from using [i]salt?[/i]" He shouted, "I can't have too much [i]salt.[/i]"

	He scribbled something onto the paper quickly, and shoved it back into his coat. Then, without lifting his head again, he pulled out a small, dark stone. But when he looked into it, his brow lowered. The map gentle tapped it against the table and glared at it again. He brought it closer to his eyes, adjusted his glasses, and held it near his ear, only to lower it again. "Salt and... And no sugar! No sugar..." He glanced at the small, smooth orb and groaned. "Please."