[center][img]http://img.roleplayerguild.com/prod/users/ccff888e-d2a3-4f6d-a340-d0c5f453075c.png[/img][h1][b][color=2956b2]March 24th, 1823[/color][/b][/h1]
[img]http://img.roleplayerguild.com/prod/users/ccff888e-d2a3-4f6d-a340-d0c5f453075c.png[/img][h1][b][i][color=2956b2]Scotland[/color][/i][/b][/h1][hr][/center]

	[color=2956b2][b][i]Port Annan:[/i][/b][/color] Nigel came out from behind the bar and shook his head. "Naw, we ain't always bein' like this. Apparently there been some attacks in London and then further north. People been scrambling to get away. Had some rare port ships comin' in from the south. They be gone by this evenin' I suspects," Nigel said as he glanced around the room and cleaned his hands off on his rag. His overly long brows flickering each time he blinked. 

	"You's be needin' a room? Or just a meals sir?" he asked as his attention came back to the man he was speaking to. Lord Eagerton walked in and glanced around. 

	"Excuse me," he said scooting around them and heading over to Lord Rutherford and Millicent. Taking the seat open to the right of Rutherford. "I have a us a carriage, we can leave as soon as we eat," he said as he brushed some crumbs off the table and scowled. "I suggest stopping in Annan to get properly bathed and clothed before heading to the Green. I have a family acquaintance there that will take us in. He wouldn't dare refuse me."

	"Oh yes, the Kirkpatricks. Arrogant little prick but he has his uses," Rutherford said as he leaned back in his chair. Millicent sat silent and stoic, focusing on the people passing by on the street. 

	"That he does," Eagerton stated frankly. "Do you think we will get waited on? Or should just head out? It's only half an hour."

	"I'm debating.. If not soon we will. Millicent needs to eat."

	[color=2956b2][b][i]Kirkpatrick House (Annan):[/i][/b][/color] Lady Kirkpatrick snarked and nodded in agreement. [color=f7976a]"Grace is not among your virtues,"[/color] she stated roughly towards Callum. Motioning for him to put a scone on her plate. He did and smiled meekly. 

	"Ahh but grace of God keeps me alive my Lady. He watches over me and ensures that I not succumb to my fuddling," the Father stated proudly. 

	[color=f7976a]"I believe our trials would be far lessened if it did not take an army of angels from above to watch of you when their skill could be put to far more fruitful tasks."[/color]

	"What more important task for an angel than to protect the deliverer of the word of god?"

	[color=f7976a]"I have plenty under my ward that give the word of god and they need not half the protecting from the dead that you need from your own fuddling."[/color]

	The father turned red and coughed. Looking over towards Maeve. "Would you like a scone dear?" he asked and then went even darker red as he fumbled the scone and it landed squarely in Maeve lap. "Oh fuddle..."

[center][hr][h1][b][i][color=2956b2]England[/color][/i][/b][/h1][hr][/center]

	[color=2956b2][b][i]London:[/i][/b][/color] [color=fdc68a]"A fine idea! A hat, yes!"[/color] he said as he cracked it open and handed Dieter, his ferret not his brother, the seed within the shell before putting the shell on his head. Oh no, this would not do, it would slip and fall ad fall and slip. Things would needed to be tended to, a hole here and hole there. a pinch of string a tie there, yes, yes, it could work, it would work. It would wait, wait, yes, time to move, time to watch. The world passing by. 

	The roads were decent and they would move quickly. The fairy finding finds would find ways, off roads here and through woods there. Off the beaten path, Over the river and through the wood to grandmothers house they would go. By and by save the woods and the green and the timbers. This way and that. How it seemed like circles they would move but no circles this day. Like ravens they moved, over the grounds, yes, further and further away from England. Not to Salisbury, no steak tonight. Not to Bath, no wash to be had. By midday they had covered more ground than ever thought humanly possible. [color=fdc68a]"An hour and hour more until we reach the western shores!"[/color]

	[color=2956b2][b][i]The Sea:[/i][/b][/color] The waters were calming and the storm was moving west. As the salt sprayed Marco laughed. "Ha! What a breath boy, hold on. Avast, ye be taken to dryness soon be enough boy. Da lady be safe and sound I be bettin'," Marco said as he wrapped an arm around Fyror and hoisted him in front before beginning to swim. The waters seeming to part as they moved swiftly, Fyror lifting partly out of the water as they moved. Quicker than most ships could with the best of winds. It was nearly nothing before they were at the ropes and nets off the bow of the ship. "Get him up!" Marco called. Hand over hand were reached down and Fyror was hoisted and dropped onto the deck. 

	The Captain looked at the man and then over at the woman who was now on her ship. Marco came up behind him quickly and landed squarely on the desk, shaking his hair out. "Gots him Cap."The womans brow quirked as she looked at them both. Then she spoke in an unfamiliar language. Her tone was flat as she spoke and her words quick. The men nodded and swiftly got into action. Marco grabbing Fyror. "Come on Lad, lets get you below and dried off. Gots somethan' we cans put ya in."

	The men seemed to be ignoring Collette right then as the Captain stepped over to her. "Come with me," was all she said. Her voice like velvet as she spoke before she turned and started to head towards the back of the ship. There was a motion with her hands and the man that yelled to get the blanket earlier sprung into action. 

	"Hoist the mainsail, course is set. Catch the winds boys, we be heading north!" he yelled and the rest went to work. The captain approached two ornate doors as Marco was to lead Fyror into the bowels of the ship. She waited for Collette to join her at the doors.

	"This way lad," Marco said as he stood on the stairs that lead into the depths of the ship.

	[color=2956b2][b][i]The Road North:[/i][/b][/color] The fire started to die down and nothing more came from it. Where had it comes from? The Lightening from the red storm? Why had it died? Why had nothing else burned? Was there more to come? It didn't seem as if there was for only the sound of the rain could be heard as the flames dwindled down and away. Had there been meaning that was missing or was it simply a ruse to push them off the path? Did they have time to ponder it?

	The horse didn't seem to want to stay in the woods any longer and a crackle of lightening, burning white struck further north. Deep in the woods there was the snap of a branch and then slowly moving in behind the trees were figures and a cold chill filled the air as the static in the air grew. The horse whinnied and started to step back, it didn't want to be there. It moving backwards, trying to force riders to let him go.