Mastering your strengths will always be your biggest ally in times of distress.

Sayings of Getron The Wise, Dwarven Overseer of Underdeep

Swollen to the limits of its banks with winter melt and the now warming days of approaching spring, the stream was a formidable adversary.  With a full windup, Sheala let fly the flat stone across the quick running waters of the creek, sending it slapping across the surface twice with long hops before ending its journey with a solid collision into the soft mud of the opposite side.  There it would remain imbedded with a plethora of others.

"Must you keep doing that?" Anthony asked, the snap of his voice weary at having watched the same monotonous recurrence over three dozen times.

Sheala retrieved another stone.  "If I don't keep busy, I'll go crazy.  It's just the way I am."  The thief turned ambassador turned rebel hurled her new projectile.  Her latest toss was not as successful as all her previous attempts, disappearing beneath the water with a plunk after only a single skip.  She chalked the failure up to the stone itself rather than her own talents for such trivial things.  Retrieving one more from the ground, Sheala determined to prove her worth as a stone tosser.  "How come I get stuck with clean up duty?"

The traditional light plate armor Sheala now donned was functional, but its rustic demeanor spoke to it being an artifact from centuries ago and more at home in a museum than for actual battlefield use.  A padded and faded blue tunic with frayed stitching was the bulk of the protection, while steel around her upper torso and breasts coupled with a pair of shoulder guards provided additional safeguards.  She still hadn't quite gotten used to the weight.

The large dent in the left side of the breastplate unnerved Sheala.  It was one of those blemishes that, even though it didn't show signs of the weapon that had caused it penetrating the steel, it made one wonder whether the previous wearer had survived the crushing blow.

At her side hung her elven forged sword, an accouterment providing stark contrast to the armor and with hardly a sign of wear.  Other than practice, Sheala had never used the gleaming silver steel blade.

Anthony climbed up on a boulder and made himself comfortable. "If anyone should get felt sorry for, it's me.  I'm the one stuck babysitting."

"Ha, ha.  Very funny.  Don't worry, I'm sure Reane is doing fine without you, lover boy."  Sheala wasn't about to let the previous conversation fall away, no matter how much her thoughts wondered to other things.   "Besides, if you're bored, I'm sure Daphney would love to get some time alone with you."

"Are you finished?"

Another rock across the creek, this one perfect once more.  "Just saying.  You really broke that girl's heart, you know?"

"Like you're breaking Brentai's?"

"Touche."  The next rock from Sheala's hand also made it to the far side with perfect precision.  "Look, I'm not judging you.  But, if you haven't figured it out yet, I'm just really good at avoiding my own problems by focusing on other people and theirs."

Following Sheala's decision to self-realize her flaws, the two returned to silence, and Anthony settled in to watch as Sheala continued to gain proficiency at pitching stones.  The posture from both remained the status quo until the whinny from a horse being reigned up broke the somber atmosphere.

Each locked eyes with Reane as she rounded a bend in the stream, her horse's hooves splashing in the water with anxious reluctance at being brought to a stop.  

"Mount up, Anthony." The captain leveled her order at only half of the pair.  "I need you to come with me."

"What's wrong?" Sheala demanded to be filled in on what was so urgent.  "Where's Brentai and everyone else?"

Anthony too thought it was strange for her to return alone.  "Reane?"

Reane's response was to snap at Sheala like a mother scolding a child. "Stay here. Make sure this position is secure.  Anthony, get your horse."

"Not a chance!"  Sheala would have none of being ordered around by her friend. "What in the name of The Dark is going on?"

"Damn it, Sheala.  That's an order!"

"Yes, Ma'am, General, Ma'am! Oh, but maybe you've forgotten?  I have this terrible habit of not following these little things called orders very well."  While the propensity over the past few fivedays was for Reane to win these sorts of confrontations, this time would be different if Sheala had her way.  "Where's Brentai?  I know something's wrong, just by the way you're avoiding me."

"He's been captured."

Sheala's eyes widened.  "What?  Captured?"

"Relax."  Reane tried to ease both Sheala's fears and her own.   "He's all right, for now.  He and half a dozen elves came across an Imperial scouting party and tried to take them out.  Unfortunately, there was another group of Imperial soldiers right behind them and the skirmish went out of hand pretty fast.  Two of the elves were killed.  One escaped to inform us of the situation.  Everyone else was taken prisoner, and we've tracked them back to their encampment."

"Damn it, Reane!  You know what the Empire's current stance on prisoners is.  Maybe if you were still using your abilities—"

"Sheala, we've been through this.  The visions are becoming too powerful. Ever since I was inside Daphney's mind, it's like they've gone to another level of intensity." The seer knew that if she had not refrained from using her mental powers, she would wind up just like when they had first started and before she learned to control them, curled up in the fetal position and crying her eyes out from the pain.  "I had to shut down for the sake of my own sanity.  It was a decision I made with great remorse, but one of necessity. "

"If you think I'm just going to stand here—"

"Sheala, I'm doing this for your own good.  This is too emotional for you and you'll be no good to us during the breakout.  Anyway, as I said, the good news is they didn't just up and kill them once they surrendered.  I'm betting that's because they weren't carrying anything that explicitly links them to the Rebellion.  Exactly why I said no rings or that sort of stuff.  So I think the soldiers are trying to figure out the proper procedure.  We're going to play that to our advantage.  But I doubt we have much time before they realize that killing them is the prudent option."

"You're not stopping me, Reane." Locating her horse grazing calmly nearby, Sheala made a hasty beeline for it.    "I'm not going to let him die before I get the chance to tell him how I feel and that I'm sorry.  Besides, what am I supposed to do here by myself if an Imperial patrol should just happen by?  Obviously they're about, even if they aren't supposed to be this far west."

Anthony agreed.  "She's got a point.  Her tongue is quick and sharp, but not that sharp."

"All right, all right."  Reane sighed, changing her approach, although she wished Anthony would have just sided with her.  "Anthony, please head back to Telga.  Inform Daphney and Supreme Commander Havarston about our situation and that we've encountered a small advanced Imperial force heading west. Ask for any reinforcements she can get us and we'll take them out if she does so before we head east for Mours Canyon.  I know she won't risk diverting troops away from what she deems essential positions, but we could use some help to make this assault work.  Tell her we'll dispatch any troops she provides us back as soon as we route the force. And, in exchange, we'll also give her all the remaining elven soldiers and Fimmirran knights riding with us, just to sweeten the deal.  They're just making us too big of a target, anyway.  I'll send someone to rendezvous with you at the old mill about a mile back and bring you to our position."

"Right."

"Might want to tell her to think about either falling back from Telga or seriously reinforcing her position there.  If Imperial forces are this close already, it's not as secure as she thinks."

Anthony took off, crashing through the woods to collect his mount once the instructions were delivered.

Sheala's brown stallion, lazily munching on some tall grass, didn't even acknowledge her presence until the thief tried to fling herself into the saddle. Something she had done with only limited success since beginning to wear armor.  With each of her first couple attempts, it moved with slight sidesteps, almost as if not wanting her to achieve her goal. 

Reane chuckled.  "You know we don't have all day, right?"

Sheala was more focused on Brentai and getting to him in time than being worried about Reane's childish teasing. "Give me a minute."  With a heavy breath and a determined heave, she brought her leg up and over.  Reaching out, she soothed her horse with a light stroke of her hand down his neck.  "Good boy."

The galloping hooves of Anthony's horse faded in one direction, while in the other direction the sound of Reane's mount notified the former thief that there was no time to waste, and if she didn't start moving now, she'd find herself left behind.  Tightening up on the reins, she coaxed her mount into a full gallop with a few quick kicks to the flank.

Blasting ahead, Sheala pursued Reane through the woods and down a game trail. Adrenaline surged up inside her in a way it hadn't since fleeing Catersburg, the attack by the archeon, and perhaps even since her game with Reane at the Yule Festival on Fimmirra.  The sensation of it all was more than welcome.  No anger; no fear - just a good old-fashioned natural rush that had been missing for a while. The only problem was it made the ride seem to take ten hours instead of just half of one, and by the time the two emerged from the woods and onto the rolling hills beyond, the day was drifting off to dusk. 

The women traveled as fast as the animals carrying them would go, Reane leading the way.  After a short stretch over the more open terrain and through a pair of shallow valleys, the land grew more level.  Their final destination was the ruins of what had once been a castle some centuries ago resting upon the final hilltop before sparse and open plains.

Not much remained other than a low wall and a few piles of rubble.  But it was more than enough to provide adequate concealment for their forces.

"Report." Reane dismounted and delivered the order with the tone of a seasoned military commander, drawing on her experience as a captain.  But was still more or less faking it.

"The prisoners haven't been moved.  They're still held in the carts near the western edge of the encampment."

"I'm assuming there have been no executions yet?"

"None yet."

"Everyone else here?"

"Yes," Sayra said, adding her voice. "Everyone is accounted for except for the elves who died in the attack and those captured."  Sheetah was loyally on her shoulder.

"Do we have a final tally of the enemy's strength?" Reane held out a hand, and a spyglass was immediately placed within it without a verbal request.

"About fifty," Gregory said.

"Must be a pretty recent deployment, since the Rebellion's intelligence doesn't have any information on Imperial activity in this area."  Leaning against the wall, just enough to see over it, Reane peered down upon the enemy camp. 

 Gregory continued feeding her the intelligence they'd been able to collect.  "Not a lot of wear and tear on the surrounding lands.  "Looks like an advanced force trying to set up a presence behind Rebel lines.  I guess in a way it was a good thing we stumbled upon it when we did."

"Any patrols?"

"All we've noticed is a dispatch back to the east.  Lone rider.  Probably running back to their main force."

 "And they haven't check these ruins yet?"

"Nope.  Not since we've been here."

Through the telescope, Reane found the prisoner cages right where Gregory said they would be.  "Looks like there's not even a guard being posted on them. We've got a small army hidden here.  Their commander must be inexperienced.  I'd have definitely posted a lookout here, at least. If not set up the camp here.  High ground is too valuable to give up this easily.  Obviously they are not expecting an attempt at rescue. Ok, Sheala I want you—" Reane's attempt to form a plan that included the the red-head faded the moment she turned and realize that her friend was no longer next to her.  In fact, Sheala was nowhere to be seen at all among the ruins.  "Damn."

"Ugh."  Gregory shook his head.  "Now where's she gotten to?"

"Off to do something rash would be my bet." Reane creased her brow in concentration, careful only to open enough of her mind to find Sheala's thoughts.

"Are you ok?"

"I'm fine." Reane dismissed his concern with in as few words as possible.  Bearing down, she sought out Sheala's presence.

*Don't try to stop me, Reane.*  Sheala's warming slammed into the seer's mind like a dagger as soon as she established the link and before Reane could get a mental word out.

The seer read her friend's reckless intentions, even while scouring the surrounding area in search of her. *Sheala, this is too dangerous.*

*We need a distraction, Reane.  Leave that part of this to me.  You just figure out the details of the rescue.*

*And what exactly are you going to do?*

There was an ominous silence.  *I haven't worked that part out yet.  Just be ready to move at first light when you get my signal around dawn.  And make sure whatever plan you come up with is a good one.*

Reane continued searching the countryside for any sign of her friend in the fading light. Catching sight of her on foot, skirting between the boulders on a nearby hillside, but still well hidden from enemy eyes, Reane shook her head.   *All right, it's your call now.  Just keep your head up.*

*Thanks for the vote of confidence.  Just don't forget, this is right up my alley.*

Darkness completely overtook the land as Brentai stared between the wooden bars of the cage.  He and the three surviving elven scouts were being held in fairly tight quarters.  Like vices, his hands were on the bars while he pondered how to break out of this prison before these Imperial soldiers followed through with the general directive of take no prisoners.

The encampment was small enough that a guard had not been posted.  "Guess the commander trusts the sturdiness of the cages and their bars to hold us."

"Considering that two of us are injured?"  One of the elves joining him in captivity grunted while sitting on the floor of the prison and nursing a wounded arm. "Still, we can't just sit here and wait for the inevitable."

"Agreed," Brentai tried the bars one more time with a strained pull.  "These bars aren't going to budge.  But let's try to keep them from deciding to actually post a guard on us though by making our complaints quiet."  He traced over every inch of the cell again with his eyes, hoping to notice some flaw he had missed earlier. "I'll assume you've tried to use the Fairyways?"

"Still shut off."

"Great." Brentai just began to bow his head in defeat when a bizarre sound with a familiar tone found his ears.

"Psst."

He looked up.  After a silence, the indication someone wanted his attention came again.

"Psst.  Tall, dark, and handsome?  Over here." Sheala's voice called to him, barely above a whisper.

Brentai turned about and saw a mass of red hair and an accompanying smile peering out from within a stack of hay piled right beside the cage.  "Sheala?"

"Shhh.  Geez, leave you alone for a few minutes and look what kind of mess you get yourself into.  You ok?"

Brentai covered the distance of the cage quickly and tried to press himself almost through the bars.  He reached a hand through, which Sheala took up in one of her own.  "I can't believe you came."

"Really?"

"Well, considering.  Good thing your stealth skills haven't gone to rust.  So, what are you doing here?"

"I'm the diversion."

"What are you going to do?  Wow them with your beauty and your charm?"

The compliment forced her into a wide smile.  "Maybe I'll do just that."  Sheala rustled around for a second, her hand leaving his before reemerging and holding a slim piece of metal.  "Take this.  Remember what I taught you about locks and how to open them?"

Accepting the thin sliver of metal, Brentai hid the lock pick in his own palm.  "Yeah, but we've got a few wounded in here, and no weapons. We can't take on the soldiers in the camp."

"Don't worry.  Reane's got a plan and waiting for my signal.  You just be ready around daybreak."

"Hey!" A shout whipped through the air from a soldier patrolling nearby in the otherwise quiet camp.  "What's going on over there?"

"Damn."  Sheila disappeared back into the stack of hay.  "Be ready."

"Hey!" The angry voice called again, this time from right outside the cage.  "I said, what's going on over here?"

The wounded elves groaned, playing the part of being the source of any sounds and providing a convenient excuse for the presence of voices.  "Tending to our wounded," Brentai said.

"Well, keep it down.  Will ya?" It was a second before the soldier moved away, but not before giving the prison a cursory inspection.

Brentai turned back to Sheala's hiding place, once certain he was gone.   A small clump of red hair remained poking out from the stack only to disappear like a snake into its hole.  There was a muffled sneeze, then a sniffle, and finally silence from the thief concealed within as he sat himself down along the bars closest to the hay.

Slumping down against the bars, Brentai tried to relax his mind.  "Glad you came," he said to the pile of straw.

"Did you think I wouldn't?" asked Sheala, remaining hidden.

"Part of me did."

"Well, I might not say it, but I do still love you.  And I'm not going to let anything happen to you."

Brentai smiled. "I love you too."

And those were the last words shared for the evening between the Pelsan man and the woman hidden in the hay.