Not long after, their horses galloped in exhaustion towards the gates of the keep. The stallions took the fair rest they deserved for carrying such burdens over the course of four days, in the well managed stables west of the second doorway.

The doors of the main room were opened. Many warriors: from Paldaron to as far south as Drakari, each with features unique to them despite most primarily in uniform such as Carrion and Valora were.

The loud crowd grew silent, for it had been years since any of them had seen the two brothers, and quite a sight it was for their arrival to be so sudden, unaware to them.

They dropped everything they were carrying and immediately ran to them, like children greeting a noble lord, for they had many things to tell them in such little time.

"Theodren? That you?... A we' tot ye were! Now taller than I? I'm insulted." One familiar member said, tapping Theodren's shoulder with a heavy chuckle, low and raspy. Theodren laughed back with a smile, slapping his back in greeting.

The sounds quickly grew, a chaotic echo to the large stone room lit by many candles.

"Is that still your brother? Surprised he survived the war. Seems as scrawny as I remember." Another commented in a joking manner, looking to Zoran while speaking to Theodren.

"He's stronger than he looks." Theodren replied, also turning to Zoran, then back to the man, becoming defensive in both his stance and facial response to him.

A loud bash followed by echoing footsteps was suddenly heard. Everyone looked on towards whatever it was, a sound further within the fortress.

"Enough! They aren't here to visit. No time to be filled in rabbles about their personal affairs. As you were." A deep, violent, yet slow and sophisticated voice proclaimed in the distance.

They all left the scene with disappointment filling their voices, returning to their crowded seats.

"It has been long, Sven. I ordered you once that they would come immediately, and here you are returning so late in the night, a week past when I expected." The man continued, giving off a serious look filled in minor disappointment.

"Ah yes-yes! I'm truly sorry sir! What must be done as punishment?" Sven said with dread in quickness, resting his knees towards him.

"I'm not some abusive slave master and you my servant. Be free to do as you please, within reason. You are your own being, after all." He looked back at him, pushing him away with his fine leather cloak. "Off with you, then."

"Aye!" Sven said, running quickly to his bed chambers nervously, a tremble in his step.

They all stood looking towards the man, quietly. There was a long pause, followed by footsteps with the man heading towards the stairway leading up to the highest tower in the guild.

"Where are you going? I thought you needed us to discuss something important!" Theodren proclaimed.

"And we do...this way, please." The man, known to be the master of the guild, said while turning his head to them slowly.

The others casually followed, looking to each other silently as still despite years of service under that man, they were unable to read him.

They were led up ancient stairs only used for certain occasions, such as in defense from dragons. The man lit a glass covered lantern, leading up the steps, warning them not to stay far behind. The darkness and silence of the steps would certainly be haunting to Sven, such as most normal people would. It was unnaturally silent, only faded voices from those below them, turning to nothingness when reaching its pitch black summit. There stood a metal door, designed with only the most fire resistant of materials: a dark steel woven with dragon skin. Only he held the key to open it, and made it so, with a creak and metallic bang against the stone brick wall by the door as they entered the room.

Sven stood in his bed, wondering what was so important about their meeting. For the sake of curiosity and concern for Valora, he decided to follow them. While then dressed in a bed robe, he got up, put his shoes on, and went out to seek their location. He sneaked up the stairs and followed the sounds in the darkness.

After only three steps, he realized his idea of going up there in that state was foolish, so he also grabbed one of his bedroom candles, continuing upward. He heard a loud echo screeching down his path, the iron door was shut. Step by step he eventually made it to the top of the dark twisted tunnel, putting his ear towards the cold and heavy door.

"I have brought you here for many reasons." A muffled voice said, though echoed in sorts by the cylinder shaped room they were in, a deep booming voice.

Sven gently stepped closer to place his ear against the doorway.

"Yeah-yeah, just get to the point." Theodren interrupted, shoulders crossed.

"I need you to journey to Greymeria." The man replied, humored by Theodren's rebellious nature, something he was fond of from the moment he first met him.

In the sake of curiosity, Zoran asked in a more polite tone than his brother, "What is the matter?"

"After your calling of unity and equal defeat at the hands of Zerethian in that cursed valley, I discovered through our library something that astonished me, but not in a good way."

They remained silently listening.

"Apparently, there was a tale dating far back beyond what we know of the history of the Greymer. A legend of how the people of N'farr became extinct. It is said that the Greymer of the northern isles discovered their lands. Upon entry, they found many fresh dead bodies staining the ground with a horrendous stench."

"The N'Farr...the gods of the ancients?" Zoran asked, rather confused, uncertainty in his voice, worrying the man was finally getting too old to develop reason, as to them the N'Farr were nothing more than a thought in legends and folklore.

"Yes-yes, but...what's the gamble?" Theodren asked impatiently.

"Apparently, it states that one of their idols was a prince named Ambrose. Ambrose was at one point banished by the N'farr, yet none know why. Perhaps the death of their king had something to do with it, but we are left still to a mirror, void of sight or reason." He said.

"We get it, what do you need us to do?" Theodren asked.

"I need you to investigate those ruins. Find out what happened."

"Isn't such a task forbidden by the laws of the realms?" Carrion asked, concern in his tone.

"Of course, but I know you to keep your word, and pertain to look towards the best outcome to be rid of this 'Almar'. Am I correct?"

"You are." Carrion replied slowly, still left in uncertainty like Zoran.

"Good. Now, here are the coordinates. I expect they'd favor one of you to understand it, and from that I bid you farewell." The man began. "Be certain to expect a fair reward from my own expense when you return."

"We will." They replied, everyone except Theodren. Sven happened to give off his cover by remarking the same words, forgetting he wasn't part of the conversation.

The room became quiet again. Sweat began pouring down Sven's neck. Realizing they were only footsteps away from opening that door, he worried they heard what he said, and his heart gave pain to his sudden sense of regret, like blood pulsing inside his chest, feeling its growl.

"They must not know I was here. Don't make a sound or they'll catch you." He thought to himself.

He then grabbed his lantern (which he rested on the ground); and with as much haste as a wild deer being chased by huntsmen, he found his way back to the bottom steps, welcomed with the attention of no one out of the many loud voices that crowded that room, to his expectation.

"Sven, why are you in such a hurry?" The man said, Sven stopped in his tracks, eyes wide, and legs trembling.
He turned with a nervous expression.

"Good question." Sven attempted to grip his chest and exhale profusely in softened breaths.

"You're coming with them." The master gave no attempt at denying his suspicion.

"Aye!...Wait, what?" Sven's return was quick, just as all the other nervous remarks he would often give. It's quite troubling I have to continue mentioning it.

"If you do this, perhaps your rank here will double, at least slightly above such a low title that you presently hold. To then consider actually becoming one of us.... Ah! Would that not be something worthwhile to you, Sven?" The master turned to him in his ramble. "To be welcomed for once by all those here? Is that not an amazement to behold?"

"No, to be honest, master, it would not be." He replied politely, though turning to a sob in defeat. "Just because I can speak the language doesn't mean I'm any more useful than Zoran over here. He likely speaks it better than I do, for what I know."

"Calm mind, Sven, calm. Look around you. I've read stories that it is hardly different from where we stand now. Cold, with bitter hearts, but yet all strong and fighting for something dear to them." Valora interrupted, unwilling to do more than lower her stance beside him, for the sake of the eyes of those around them.

"Where exactly?" Sven asked.

"To the port in which they sailed off." The master said.

"Again, where exactly?" Sven's nervousness became an overwhelming sensation to endure, to be sure, especially for those standing so often contrary to such a thought.

The master did not answer, already gone to further within the castle, not to be seen again.

"He speaks of Yori, Sven. He expected you knew." Valora lifted him up.

Sven looked on, wondering why he chose to leave them so soon.

"I know why he walks on. This new threat, Almar, it frightens him. I can see it in his footsteps, in his eyes and voice. He's gone pale, and fears for the safety of each of us. For his sake Sven, please; set your fears aside, and understand they have better use elsewhere." Zoran walked up to Sven looking to everyone in his talk.

"We will make it as easy as it could be. I taught each of them when they were young how to face fear; I could teach you too." Carrion followed, placing his hand on his shoulder as he attempted to look him in the eyes, though Sven's looked downward. "If you allow me, that is."

"Enough. He will face these struggles whether or not he faces them standing. Just get him on his feet. This is a long journey ahead of us." Theodren looked to each of them with crossed arms, seeing them all in Sven's support, as though he were a child as he sat on the ground.

While Valora and the others looked in disappointment in Theodren's lack of care, they knew he was right, and got up to pack their things.

So came the night of their path to Frostford once again, and to Yori.