[h3]Jordan Forthey[/h3]

	The deigan woman obtained a mien of acute exasperation and closed her eyes, seemingly trying to reconstitute herself. [i]"He is my bodyguard and traveling companion, and he’s going to the Manor to investigate. You should follow, we have the situation in ha–”[/i]
[i]	Well, if his approach to investigating was the same as informing his companion- [/i]
	Neither of them were given time to finish their thoughts before a bell rang out, loud, frantic. The expressions on the faces of the locals left no doubt in the nature of the sound. Well. [i]Damn. [/i]
	[i]And how in the Realms had [b]he[/b] known about it half a dozen seconds before the alarm was raised?[/i]
	"Right," Jordan muttered, not even waiting for Sir Yanin to explicitly confirm that they were going to join in, making a quarter turn to sprint after the male deigan. His master was moving, too, and hadn't told or motioned him to stop, so ... there he had it. 
	"Mister!? I am coming with- " He didn't know either of the deigan's names, did he? Hoof-falls were gaining rapidly on them. 
	"Careful!" he shouted at the male deigan as he gritted his teeth and drew to the side just in time for the two horsemen to be able to come galloping through. 
	He was not entirely sure if he [i]should[/i] permit those ones past, but nevertheless not entirely certain that they weren't the sorts who would try to trample him - or the male deigan. If you didn't care too much about the horse's well-being, or if the horse was driven or panicked enough to not care, hooves could do some serious harm, atop of them just being big enough to be quite persuasive. At other times, a hose might dance around and refuse to move forward an inch just because there was a leather cord on the ground. Horses were a bit weird like that. 
	In either case, a longsword was not the best tool to stop any number of horses galloping right towards you. Maybe if you swiped them from the side... What were the odds these two were just riding nearby when the bell rang, as opposed to being some kind of flanking operation? 
	Behind and to the side of him, there were a couple more people pouring out of the Fadewatcher station, his master ahead, the Reina's follower nearly on his heels; Jordan himself had just about made it to the corner of the wrought iron fence surrounding the manor's gardens, momentarily leaning to survey the manor surroundings through the rods as he was trying to formulate a course of action. 
	Sir Yanin caught up and half-tossed him a spear to supplement his own sword and dagger. He would probably hear a comment about how that was why his master himself often traveled in [i]full[/i] armor to unfamiliar places... But later. Now was for hurrying the rest of the way along the fence, after his master. 


[h3]Sir Yanin Glade[/h3]

	The older local Fadewatcher saluted, and gave a rough report of what had happened, though a lot of it was confirming what they already knew or suspected. They had better assume there were at least sixteen. Perhaps to the northeast - didn't seem to be the kind to obfuscate their tracks. Mixed bunch, variably equipped - if their weapons and armor weren't looted, it was nevertheless bound to be each providing for themselves. So it wasn't high-grade professionals - though they could've been nevertheless contracted by someone with more backing power.
	 The tail not returning spoke of either distances or one more being added to this day's count. Following them with what few men the locals had left would have been a futile endeavor. It wasn't, strictly taken, [i]impossible,[/i] that said Bor's man tracking them had found something worth spying on, but odds were, not probable. If he wasn't the sort to try and free the - not unlikely injured - healer on his own. Proverbial poking of the hornet's nest. 
	Remembering that he hadn't replied, only listening intently, Yanin slowly nodded as the watchman finished explaining their reasoning. And was subsequently distracted by the little altercation near the door. Since Jordan hadn't felt the need to draw a weapon, he had halted himself at 'ready to,' body half-turned and hand on hilt. Let someone do the explaining. The language the deigan man had spoken, though - it was uncanny. He might have been only able to speak two, but he should have been able to at least recognize any from the surrounding regions.  
	It bothered him. 
	The deigan woman specified that the other deigan was with her, just about, before an alarm cut in and the local Fadewatcher sputtered something about the baroness. 
	"They're back," Yanin concluded, head notching up like that of a hound which had just heard something in the distance, his somewhat flattened affect making it hard to determine whether it was a question or a statement of fact. "Or their employer is." Either way, the trouble had returned. 
	He moved, paying no heed to the looks of terror or the reiteration of the baroness's importance, only briefly half-kneeling down to pick up two of the spears from other discarded weapons and miscellaneous bits of armor near the door. 
	"I am borrowing these," he informed the locals as he vanished beyond the door. 

	In the streets, people were emerging and disappearing into the buildings; two horsemen galloping by, a dark figure who was either the most southern human he had ever seen or an inhuman kind not seen in these lands for centuries rushing out from the winery a short way further down from the manor, Jordan sprinting after the male deigan, his female companion, the healer following on Yanin's own trail, bursting forth copious amounts of water from a nearby well and floating the mass of fluid overhead as if it were a second nature to her.
	Combat-healer? It didn't take a large amount of water in someone's face to choke them. Not very immediately lethal, but rather disabling even without killing. Fast enough, hot enough, frozen enough, and there were many more ways water could turn a tide. 
	"Your companion," he insisted in a low tone as he tossed the extra spear to Jordan and the Reina's follower caught up. "What kind of magic does he wield?" Could be important. Either for tactical advantage, or to know to stay cautious. 
	As the follower of Reina had already seen to questioning the intent of the foreigner from the winery, he turned a fraction of his attention to the two horsemen even as he rapidly gained upon the gate and observed whatever motion in the manor garden or windows he could through the bars of the fence, "And you. Identify yourself." 
	He didn't like armed strangers of unknown allegiance behind his back if he were to make his way (in)to a building under attack. Didn't help that the fence was hardly a cover in either direction, though one near would have easier time shooting through without hindrance. 

[h3]Madara[/h3]

	Not being one to stay deterred by miscellaneous distractions for long, Madara gently tilted the Fadewatcher's head back to inspect his injured jaw ... only to be distracted [i]again[/i], this time by a ringing bell. An eyebrow arched in her face as the man under her fingers stilled, eyes widening in quite the horrific realization. The follower of Reina sent her an inciting look, even as the Fadewatchers panicked. She could appreciate a person who could keep her calm. No good came from a surgeon or healer that lost her head as soon as blood began to flow.
	None of the three (four, if you counted the Fadewatcher the knight had been talking to) they were yet to tend to were bound to suffer from abrupt death in the next few hours. It appeared the general consensus was that a healer might be much more urgently some hundred meters to the south. 
	"I will be returning to you as soon as I am able," she noted, drawing back the fingers she had been running along the man's jaw. 
	She wouldn't be needing her backpack; not much use of her spare tunic or waxen tent-cloth, nor her food. Most of her medical supplies were contained in the large pouches to her sides, and the bandages she'd already extracted from its depths. Just the bandages and the larger bottle in addition to the supplies already in her pouches or on her arm or belt, then.  
	Both in hand, she rose, tying the third, fabric bag to her belt and fitting the bottle in a pouch. She was ready to head out, following on the others' trail.