Captain Ty's jaw muscles tighten when the stinging salve hits, but she doesn't flinch otherwise. "New eye? Maybe in the afterlife. I have had this one in my possession too long to bear its parting." She jabs at the edges of her burn impatiently, as though annoyed it hasn't healed itself already. "My next patrol draws nigh. An we do not cross paths again, good night, and good river-crossing at the morn." She gives Zaljan a respectful nod and strides back out into the dark, dripping forest.

From the prison tent, two guards emerge, carrying torches and chivvying two prisoners chained together: a human with a drooping mustache and a short, fat orc. Zaljan would recognize them as Detective Evans and the police mage Rabbit.

Zaljan heads over to Evans, seemingly oblivious of the fact that they're prisoners (or at least not caring that there are guards.) "What you doing here?"

Up close, Evans is in bad shape, bruises looking black in the purple twilight. He stares at Zaljan in shock, then looks him up and down with growing excitement, before flinging himself at the elf for a warm embrace. The guards, taken aback, don't quite manage to pull him away in time, and instead stand watching, looking uncertain.

Taddeo, gets Yala cleaned up as best he's able to, entertaining her with stories and jokes. Once she's cleaned up, he looks around at the camp, then down at Yala.

"What are you in the mood for? Food, sleep or fun?"

Zaljan looks vaguely uncomfortable, worming away from the inspector. "Be long way from Doche. Why you here?"

"Food. Then fun. Then sleep." She fixes him with a firm glare, indicating that only one or two out of the three is not an option. "Since Edric's leg is hurt, does that mean we'll have to stay here for a long time?" The glare turns hopeful.


Evans beams. "It's not important. I'm just -- I'm glad, to see you, free and upright."

"He's a fugitive," one of the guards says, trying to gently draw Evans away by pulling on his chains. "Accept our apologies that he troubled you, sir."

"Food it is."

Taddeo leads the way to the dining tent.

"Well, Edric is a tough man, and he doesn't want to stay here. Besides,"

He looks down at Yala and grins.

"This isn't exactly a great place to stay for a while. However, we may travel a little slower."

Zaljan frowns, stepping back from the guards. "Fugitive from what? You guards from Doche? From Church?"

Rough logs are laid out to serve as tables and benches. When the two enter, the eating guards make space. "Welcome, fair travelers," says one guard, a human woman who doesn't look that much older than Yala. "You are the latest wounded creatures that Captain Ty has brought home?" She grins, a kindly expression.


The guards look blandly puzzled. "He's from Doche, sir," one says, pointing to Evans. "They both are. And in the morning, they'll be taken home."

Taddeo inclines his head.

"Indeed, the lady I accompany is Yala, and I am Taddeo. We are starving, and hoped this was the place to take care of that."

Zaljan continues to peer at the guard, pulling down his mask to get a better look at him. "But why da chains? Be illegal to leave Doche?"

Almost before he's finished speaking, bowls of hot (if bland) fare are passed to the two. Yala digs in, obviously burning her mouth and not caring.

The guards attempt to watch the newcomers without appearing to watch, and don't pull it off. "How came you here?" the young woman asks at last. "Did you meet with smugglers?"


"When one is wanted for murder, yes," the guard says, rather gently, as though not wanting to offend Zaljan by implying he's stupid.

"Yes," Evans announces with almost manic pride. "I did it, yes, it was me." He gestures to a couple of camp stools under a nearby awning. "May I sit and talk?" The guard looks uncertain, but finally nods assent. Evans squints up at Zaljan through bloodshot eyes. "Can you spare a moment to speak to me?"

Edric isn't sure how to proceed at the camp. His leg still hurts, but he's growing accustomed to the pain, and his limp is fading. On the other hand, putting his weight on it has caused the blood to start to seep through the cloth covering it. He watches as the others dissipate into the crowd, and he simply frowns.

After quite some time, when nobody has noticed that he didn't follow along with them, the large wizard simply sprawls out on the ground and goes to sleep.

Zaljan nods, slouching so he's not really any taller than the humans. "Let me guess: you find priest, but not proof, and do justice Church don't like?"

Two healing mages coming out of the medical tent are surprised to see the large wounded man apparently collapsing onto the ground. One comes forward and checks Edric's pulse.


Evans smiles through cracked lips. "If only. No, as near as Rabbit or I could tell, that cleric and his pock-marked friend fled town. We were blamed for letting you do the same -- and in that hysteria, the punishment seemed a damn sight too hard to bear. So we left town as well. And made good time, until ..." He waves at his injuries. "Smugglers. A gift from fortune, truly, for when Captain Ty rescued us and brought us back to camp, we heard the news from Doche."

Detective Evans's eyes go cold and hard. "My Doche police force, my heart and soul, has gone mad. With you and yours gone, they needed a new suspect ... they were shaking down the slums, strong-arming, blackmailing, even trying to torture confessions out of their political rivals ... I couldn't stand by. Not from that. So I had the camp mages contact Doche to let them know I was confessing to everything and turning myself in."

He smiles, that nearly manic pride again. "They even believed me that I dragged Rabbit along at swordpoint. He'll go free."