“Wait just a moment!” Rynard objected, as Courynn strode past him, rushing to catch the beautiful half-elf. Only a few days ago he had been in Velprintalar, continuing his studies in the Art while serving the Royal Council as what the unenlightened to the necessity of a government bureaucracy might call a minor functionary, when he was tasked with investigating the supposed disappearance of citizens in the Yuirwood, and now here he was in a forest he had no intention of ever setting foot in, with his mission being usurped by the decommissioned scout sent to guide him and a half-elven woman who had been spying on them! “She’s a Master of the Yuirwood,” Courynn paused and turned back toward the young mage, “and knows the secrets of the menhir.” Rynard knew of the order of foresters who called themselves, arrogantly in his opinion, the Masters of the Yuirwood, and had studied what little was written about the ancient stone circles left by the former residents of the forest. But it was well known that the order knew much more than what was written, and the thought of learning their secrets appealed to him. “Very well then,” he announced with authority, rushing forward to catch them. “Since she will have value to our quest, she may accompany us.” If Talice heard him, she showed no sign, but slowed her pace enough for the men to catch her. “You’ve a lot to learn about the Yuir,” Courynn admonished Rynard. “Any privilege you hold beyond these woods will do you little good here.” “I carry the authority of the Royal Council, scout,” Rynard shot back. “You’d do well to remember that!” “I’m sure a dragon will hold that distinction in high regard,” Courynn countered, already fed up with the mage’s superior attitude. “It is a dragon!” Talice spun to face him, her voice tinged with fear as she fixed Courynn with piercing glare. “Are you certain?” “That’s what I have been sent to determine.” Rynard informed her, but her eyes stayed lock on Courynn. “A young-adult based on its size” Courynn replied, his voice carrying both confidence and concern, “but a dragon none the less... most likely a green.” Talice turned to address Rynard for the first time, all signs of humor gone from her beautiful features. “You’d better have more than the Council’s authority,” she challenged. “You’d better have the courage to fight and die for those who dwell in these woods!” Rynard met her cold, piercing stare without flinching under its weight. But in the deepest corner of his mind, he asked himself… was he?