[center][color=crimson][h2]Xandar Markov[/h2][/color][/center]

[color=crimson][center]Location: Ashkevron residence, front yard -> Faeril's bedroom -> Front yard in a tree[/center][/color]

Xandar Markov gracefully landed back down to the Earth as he yawned into his hand, stretching out his muscles as he vanished his armor and shirt, stripping himself down only to his trousers before summoning a cigarette into his hand. He lit it with his finger, taking a long drag of it before slowly exhaling, trying to calm himself down from his adrenaline high. It seemed the fighting was all but over, at least from external forces. The fighting within themselves, however, had only just begun. He looked to his side and put a hand over where it stitches were, making sure none had been popped yet. And well, it seemed like it was almost a miracle they weren't, because he would not be hearing the end of it if they were popped. He did have the others cuts on his leg and shoulder, but that was more of an annoyance than a real concern.

The Warlord Prince slowly made his way to where all the bodies of soldiers were lying down, and he realized that there were two less bodies than he had originally counted. After a quick glance around he realized that they must have been some that he had knocked unconscious and they had most likely fled. Which he was down the cliff at the time, the people at the Eyrie were not capable of holding prisoners of war apparently. Oh well, at least someone would be able to explain the atrocities that happened here and it could stand as an example and a warning. But still, if others could report it, that meant that staying there any longer was probably not going to be an option. 

Only four of the men had not been led to their death, so that means that two were still alive among the group of bodies, and he quickly distinguished which ones were which. The Ebon-Grey separated the two men from the corpses and summoned some rope, binding them tightly together and stripping them of their weapons. He left them tied to one of the few trees in the front gardens, msking sure it would be quite difficult and very loud if they tried to escape. The rest of the bodies, however, he stripped them of our their belongings and tossed the now bare bodies off the side of the cliff. He was sure something or another would eat them, he would have burned them but the smell might not have be too kind to the others around him. They did not deserve a proper burial. While most of them had normal weapons and armor, there was one of the higher jeweled individuals that had something extra on him. A handful of gold marks, which he quickly pocketed, but also a rough note. It briefly described the location they were in and told of the presence of Faeril and himself. This was definitely planned, and with this sort of information there was bound to be a rat, either within their group or somewhere in town. Thsi ony added to the fact theat they wouldn't be safe here for very much longer.

Finally he came back to where the rest of the group was standing and waved his hand, vanishing the shield that encompassed the Queen and Faeri, noticing that Faeril was also passed out. Shaking his head, he finished the last of his cigarette and crushed the rest into his hand, blowing out a cloud of smoke into the crisp air. He bent down, carefully holding Faeril in his arms, careful not to wake her. Although at this rate there was almost nothing that could possibly wake her from such an exhausted sleep. Xandar didn't pay any attention to any person near him besides Fatima, who had been treating Faeril before she passed out. [color=crimson]"I'm taking her to her bedroom so that she may rest, I won't be long."[/color] Xandar said this in a calm, effortless tone, directing the message at only her but it was loud enough for the rest to hear as well. Without waiting for a response he walked away into the house, burhsing past Mikhail as if the man didn't exist as he made his way to the bedroom, careful to avoid the chunks of flesh.

Xandar gave a soft sigh as he set down the Black Widow, pulling the covers up over her and tucking her in properly as he brushed some of the hair streaming into her face. She almost looked peaceful when she wasn't awake. [color=crimson]"You may have saved my life but you have caused me quite the headache these last few days, Faeril. Whatever it is you have weaved better be worth my time. I don't know what's more stressful, the people trying to kill us or the people here that already want me dead."[/color] Xandar chuckled, knowing that she couldn't even hear him as he turned to walk away, opening the door before pausing in the door frame. [color=crimson]"Although, to tell you the truth, this might be the most excitement I've had in months. Sweet dreams, Widow. I'll see you again when you have the strength to curse me out."[/color]

Now alone in the kitchen, he summoned the supplies he had been asked to keep a hold of on the side of the kitchen, stacking them properly so that someone else could go through them. He stifled another yawn, thinking of what to do next but realizing he was also quite tired from the events of today, considering his condition. Exiting the house, he made his way back to the tree where the two men were still tied up, and he lifted himself up into the air with his wings so that he could sit on one of the low hanging branches. He stretched his legs across it, his back against the tree as he rested his head, feeling some of his joints and bones crack in an unpleasant way. Summoning another cigarette, he lit it and held it in his mouth as he watched the storm clouds above him. He knew he would have to take some time to rest and relax before he had the patience to deal with what would inevitably come next.