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

[color=crimson][center]Location: In the ruined town of Sharon, Shalador[/center][/color]

Xandar stiffened up at the touch, but exhaled slowly. He knew the Landens were a gigantic pain in the ass, and their rebellion would only cause more of a headache than they were worth. Still, just disposing of this small lot wouldn't hurt, nobody would miss them or even know they were dead. He was just used to his days of being a rogue, hiding in abandoned buildings like this. He got real tired of trying to talk, persuade, and convince others. It was much easier to either stay hidden or kill anybody who could pass on word of his presence. If it was women and children he would think twice about such violence, but these seemed like a bunch of blundering idiots. Or, even worse, they could be spies for that Queen. 

It was out of his hands though, as he nodded and let the witch slip past him, as the Warlord Prince simply stood in the doorway and listened in on the conversation. They were a bunch of poor and ragged men who were blabbering on about rebellion, and when they spotted the Widow, they didn't seem too pleased. It didn't take too long for them to think about selling her out, even at the risk of their own lives. If there was even a hint of some reward that they could get, they would pounce on it, anything to give them a glimmer of hope out of their mediocre lives. It seemed like it was a stalemate, and he wasn't going to let them simply wander off know that they knew one of them was here. 

The Reaper walked into the open, firmly closing the door behind him and leaning against it. The group of five men went wide eyed, watching at the Warlord Prince played with his ring that held the Sapphire Jewel. He looked very disinterested in the conversation, but there was just a... terrifying aura about him. It was clear that he was with Faeril, and that he could easily make their lives a living hell in an instant. The moment he looked over at the group they shuttered, the cracked out individual covering his head and diving to the floor. Just a look, a glance, it seemed like those bright gold eyes were staring into their souls. 

He didn't say a word though, as he looked back down at his ring again and mused over it, rubbing his thumb along the fine edges of it. It was only for a moment, but that glance tensed up the group, and the bearded one took a few seconds to compose himself before finally mustering up the courage to speak. "W-well, um. W-we d... don't have to tell the queen about nothin'! Nope, like we never even seen ya. J-just be on our way."