Will and Lea turned in early that night and Horace stayed down in the tavern until the group of men he was talking with left. Will and Lea changed into their Ranger uniforms once they heard the tavern start to quiet down for the evening. Lea was tightening her boots and Will sat at the table pulling out the note Halt had slipped to him earlier that day.

"Let's see what this is about then." Will cleared his throat and put on his best Halt impression. "'Snuck into their camp this morning and overheard their leader talking with his head goon. His name is Salem.'" Lea smiled and rolled her eyes at Will's impression. She had to admit it was getting rather good. "'Apparently they've already taken the castle over from the fief to our south.'" Will dropped the impersonation mid sentence and Lea sat up straight to look at him. "'They said they plan to make their next move soon. You three keep to your plan and find out whatever you can. I'm heading back to Castle Araluen to inform Crowley and the King. Hopefully I'll have reinforcements when I come back. Watch each others backs but don't do anything reckless. Hold the line until I come back'" Will looked up at Lea.

"How did they take a whole castle without anyone noticing?" Lea said and Will exhaled, leaning back in his chair.

"This Salem must really know what he's doing" Will replied "This complicates things"

"We might have to stop with Jongleur act" Lea suggested "Get a little more hands on. We need to figure out what their up too" She was turning her river stone over in her palm and Will nodded.

"Well hopefully those goons took enough notice of Horace." Will said "You have your strikers?" Lea nodded and patted her belt. "Good, you'll probably need them." He handed her the note from Halt. "Give this to Horace so he knows what's going on."

"What are you gonna do." Lea asked as Will stood up.

"I'm going to go find their camp." Will replied "See exactly what we're up against" He grabbed his bow and quiver and Lea stood up.

"Alright just be careful." Lea said, grabbing her own bow and quiver. "Meet us at camp in the morning." Will gathered their Jongleur things.

"I'll take these back to camp before I go and tend to our horses." Will said and they said their goodbyes as Will slipped out of their room.

Lea waited a few minutes before slipping out as well, sneaking down the hall to Horace's room and using the key he slipped to her earlier in the night to get in. Horace looked up as she entered and locked the door behind her, he was sitting on his bed sharpening his sword and waved her a greeting.

"Plans have changed slightly" Lea said and handed Horace the note from Halt. She sat down at the table as he read and let out a low whistle. "Will left to go find their camp."

"Good plan." Horace said "And I assume we're sticking to the original plan?" Lea nodded and put her stone back into her pocket. She looked around the room. "The best place would probably be on top of the wardrobe honestly" He said, he could tell she was looking for somewhere to hide and she smiled.

"You already scoped the room for me?" Lea asked "How thoughtful"

"Well you're watching my back so I'd like you to have a good hiding spot" Horace returned her smile and Lea stood. "We might as well get too it then." He sheathed his sword and laid it on his bed, putting the blanket over it and Lea blew out the candles. Horace was right, it wasn't ideal but it was the best she had. She climbed on top of the dresser and began her vigil.

-

Will crept through the forest by the dim light of the moon that had just hit it's peak. He had circled the camp twice now. The clearing the makeshift camp was set up in was dotted with tents. Smouldering campfires near each tent cluster and only a few of the camps inhabitants still awake. He kept a close eye in the large tent near the back of the clearing. No one had gone in or out, that he had seen, since he had arrived. While the camp technically had a patrol, Will could hardly consider them guards. Two men well into their drink circled the edge of the clearing. More interested in their conversation than anything that could be watching. Or in Will's case, listening.

Will followed the men on one of their rounds and listened while they conversed. They said that someone named Salem had left for the evening. The men mentioned him taking two other men named Roald and Baz. Roald was a name Will recognized. That was the large man from the trio who frequented the tavern. Baz must be one of the other two. Will assumed by the way they talked about Salem that he was held in a high respect, even in the minds of inebriated men. He must be their leader. Regardless this was good news to Will. Their leader, and their muscle, was away.

Leaving the men to their drinks Will skirted around the clearing until he was behind the large tent. He snuck around the edge of the tent and pulled the flap back slightly and slid inside. The tent was simply furnished with a writing desk and chair off to the right near a cot. To the left, secluded by a partition, was a larger desk covered in medicinal alchemy supplies. Will slipped off to the right, stopping in front of the desk. The top was barren aside from a paper weight, a polished, blue river stone. Will picked up the stone and turned it over in his hands, as he went to set it down and search the desk he heard the scrap of boots on the dirt and froze. As he looked he saw the tent flap shift and Will kept the stone in his hands, and dropped to the ground sliding under the cot.

Will could see a taller man walk in from his hiding spot. It was one of the men from the tavern. He carried a lantern and moved across the room and Will watched him disappear behind the partition, the light from his lantern casting shadows around the room. Will could hear him moving things around on the desk on the other side of the room. When the noise stopped, Lem walked out from behind the partition with a bound leather pouch about the length of a quill and headed toward the exit of the tent. Will watched him take a passing glance around the tent as he walked away, then suddenly he stopped. His gaze was stuck on the writing desk and he walked over, a puzzled look on his face. Lem scanned the desk and frowned, setting the lantern down on it and opening the drawer, rifling through its contents.

Will became aware of the paper weight in his hand and cursed to himself, moving his hand slowly to grab the strikers on his belt as Lem bent over to look under the desk. As Will's hand wrapped around his strikers, Lem looked over and locked eyes with him. There was a split second of confusion that crossed the man's face before he jumped to his feet, dropping the leather pouch on the desk and drawing a knife from his belt in the same instance that Will bolted out from under the bed.

Will darted forward pulling his strikers from his belt as Lem slashed his knife in an arc in front of him. Will's strikers collided with the side of Lem's head, the taller man managing the get a glancing blow on Will's forearm. Lem dropped like a sack of rocks and Will let out a pent up breath.

"He's fast.." Will muttered to himself as he looked at the shallow cut on his forearm. He looked down at the man at his feet and was satisfied that he was out cold. He set the paper weight down on the desk and unrolled the leather pouch that had been discarded there. Inside the pouch was a long, thin syringe filled with a translucent green liquid and will raised his eyebrows at it. He wrapped the pouch back up and placed it in his pocket. Deciding that he had over stayed his welcome, Will resolved to give this another try tomorrow night. Will turned and took a step towards the tent flap and felt a wave of lethargy wash over him causing him to stumble slightly. He steadied himself a looked back at the unconscious man on the ground. His eyes locked on the discarded knife in the dirt and felt a pit in his stomach. The blade of the knife was coated in the same sickly liquid that filled the syringe he had taken. Will had only one thought as he felt another bought of exhaustion push him. "I need to leave."

-

Hours passed with Lea crouched on top of the wardrobe. She had attuned herself to the ambient noises. The way the bedframe would creak when Horace turned over, the settling of the boards in the walls and the snuffling of horses from the stable below their window. Two hours after the moon hit its peak Lea heard two sets of footsteps coming up the stairs and tightened her hand around her strikers. The footfalls stopped outside the door and Lea saw Horace shift in bed so he had easier access to his sword. They heard soft metal clicking as the intruder fiddled with the lock and another click followed by the door slowly swinging open and Lea saw one of the twins, Baz, poke his head in the room and look around. Once he deemed the coast to be clear he 'snuck' into the room and Lea assumed his partner was waiting outside the door. She slipped down from the wardrobe silently as she wondered why they hadn't sent the larger man in after Horace when she saw something in the man's left hand. A syringe with a sickly looking green liquid inside and decided she didn't want to find out why. She slid forward like a wraith and bashed her strikers hard into the base of Baz's skull and he sunk to the ground in a daze, the syringe falling from his hand and clattering onto the floor. The slight noise caused Roald to look into the room and see Lea above his companions limp body and Lea drew her saxe as Horace rose from bed, sword in hand.

In the moment Roald drew his axe and entered the room Horace rose to face him and Lea felt a slight breeze behind her too late. As she turned towards the window she felt a sharp pain in the side of her neck and found herself face to face with a looming figure in a Ranger cloak. As steel clashed on steel behind her the figure injected her with the thin green liquid and she jerked away from him staggering back slightly as she noticed the window to the room was wide open. "How didn't I notice him come in?" She swiped forward at the figure with her blade and he danced backwards away from her, grabbing the syringe his companion had dropped on the ground. The cloaked figure drew his own blade that Lea immediately recognized as a Ranger saxe. Confident that Horace was handling himself she advanced on the tall man in front of her and struck out with her blade again. She assumed this must be their boss, Salem. Her thoughts raced as he parried her blow and swept her blade to the side, returning a blow of his own that she blocked. 

As Lea blocked Salem's blow the force of it left her staggering. It shouldn't have, she knew that. She realized that her vision was swimming. The sound muffled in her ears but she didn't have time to think as Salem was on her again and she parried another blow. Again she swayed from the force of the blow. Her senses felt dull. She couldn't think. Another blow. Her saxe felt heavy in her hands. Another blow. All she could do was defend. Another blow. She stumbled backwards, her back hitting the wall next to the dresser. Still she held her blade up to defend as Salem approached her, this time the blow didn't come. Lea still had her combat sense about her and took a step forward to strike. Salem sidestepped as her leg gave out under her causing her to collapse at his feet. Lea tried to pick herself up but she couldn't. She looked up, straining to see through the fog in her vision, to see Salem looking down at her. Under his cowl she saw the mask that covered the lower half of his face and she looked into his eyes. Gold eyes stared into hers and Lea couldn't get a grip on the emotion in them. The sound of steel on steel rang in her ears as she searched the mans eyes. Was it pity that she saw, or was it regret? Whatever it was faded as her vision clouded over and the sound of fighting faded away with her consciousness.