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The journey out of the Lizardmen temples were quick much to the credit of the Elf Shellalli. Just as swiftly as she guided them into the Temples towards the battle against the Von Carstein Vampire, here they were now traveling through a great many woods to a place Lucian was at once before.
Through a great many trees they went. Some of them the Knight noticed were split opened, making it as if they were walking into the trees themselves. Perhaps they were, but Lucian was sticking to his newly divine senses to the understanding that they were simply traveling.
To say everyone had a slight weariness of the group was an understatement. Adok, being a Dwarf, would never fully trust an Elf who he had never met before. Though he was mostly focused on the rune that he had carved into a single rock, the same rune that they had witnessed at the Konquata. If he understood any secrets from them Lucian has yet to understand it.
Tee-Nee-Tyny has been riding Bok almost exclusively since the two were united. If there was any kind of kinship that Lucian shared with the Kroxigor it was overridden by the presence of the Skink who was now ridding on the top of his head.
The same could be said about Tee-Nee-Tyny, who appeared to be far better off than Adok from time under the Vampire. He did not say a thing, but when the two had glanced at one another the Skink had given a solemn bow to the man.
Travel took around six hours of the day. As they had to leave at the bleeding edge of morning they were cresting upon the fortress when the sun was high in the sky. Lucian knew that such expediency was not to be overstated, for such a journey would have been multiple days otherwise.
Much to his surprise there was a plethora of men walking outside the fortress. They were like the other men and warriors that Lucian had met, but the difference came from how formal their garb looked to the Knight.
When they sighted their group did not immediately flee but instead formed up. Lucian did not blame them, none the less that he had seen himself.
They were characters from a story come to life. Guided by an elf whose beauty could not be questioned, a pair of monsters that were cleary from a realm other than their own stood resolute while a Dwarf looked at a rock testing its worth.
Then the Knight who glowed with green witchfire stepped forward, “I am Lucian of Bretonnia, Slayer of Grimidal! Bring me the Baron of this castle for I need to speak to him of aid.”
As if daemons were on their heels, the group sent men to carry the news of Lucian’s arrival.
