A cool breeze sweeps his silver hair aside as he stares into the enchanted mirror at his feet. He takes one last look back onto the bloodied battlefield that was once a dark wizards stronghold and as he surveys the wreckage of the now crumbled Eastern wall his thoughts shift to Sandra, knowing that this very well may be the last time he sees her. With a heavy sigh he steps towards the false reality of the mirror and following the steps of his companions who left not moments before him he shifts through its liquid boundaries, moving through time and space itself, unknowing as to what dark fate lies before him. As he tumbles through reality he closes his eyes, allowing memories of a past long forgotten to swell within his mind and become reality once again.

Darkness envelopes his vision, dulling the senses and blotting out reality as he slips into the subconscious. The world slowly vanishes around him as he falls deeper and deeper into his own memories. For a moment the world is nothing, all of his surroundings have been cancelled out and what has replaced them is void. The blackness fades to light, and sounds return to the world as his mind begins weaving an illusionary world around him where reality and imaginary become one.

A light wind blows over his face, the smell of fresh spring blossoms in the air. Light from the morning sun illuminates the meadow, warming his dreaming face. The grass ripples in the wind and gently brushes against the skin of his face, tickling him lightly and forcing a thin smile upon him. A voice mumbles just beyond hearing. It grows louder.

"Laire? Laire are you listening to me? I said lord marshal Bassiri awaits our presence. Nobody's paying you to just lay around in the sun you know."

With a mumble Laire sits upright, "The commander doesn't pay that well to begin with, especially for the type of work he asks of us. We honestly need to find better paying customers Arlan."

In a slight mocking tone Arlan replies, "Well the only ones in this corrupt hole of a city willing to pay your prices are the exact people we've been working against for years now."

With a sigh, "I suppose we've got to settle for what we've got then?"

With a smile and a slight chuckle Arlan grabs her close friend by the hand and helps him to his feet. "Don't worry so much, I think today may be our big break."

Together they begin their walk through the countryside, leaving the shade of the great willow behind them and working their way towards the outskirt buildings of the city surrounding the great citadel, Mithrendain. They pass a few small farms as they head towards the great forest, the rich fields looking rather simple in comparison to the ancient trees and large, intricate towers that make up the inner core of Mithrendain. With long strides they make quick travel of the countryside and the spring fields slowly transform into the dense forests that exist deep within the Feywild. The trees grow ever taller as they continue farther into the ancient heart of the forest and the intricate structures of the city begin to come into view. As the edges of the city grows nearer they aim their journey along the winding paths towards the market district. The ornate structures of the Eladrin built towers form a beautiful scene, woven into the trees themselves as if the large stone cathedrals were formed from natural causes.

The walk through the city is always long and boring for the first few minutes of travel but as they approach the heart of the city things get very lively as there is always a burst of activity within and around the market district. Crowds of shoppers and journey men swell around Laire and Arlan. The two stop for a brief moment and look to each other with sly grins as if to share the same thought. With breakneck speed they bound of into the chaos of the mid-day market, weaving and jumping in and around people with such a level of grace and precision that they appear to flow as smoothly as the air itself. A calamity of smells and sounds bombards the senses, filling the mind with beautiful images and colours that swirl to paint the most breathtaking of aural sensation within the subconscious. The aroma of fresh breads and this month's new harvest of fruit wafts through the air, only to be instantly replaced by the earthy scent of newly woven cloaks of the finest silks and cloths. The hammering of steel on anvil rings through air, blending with shouts and calls of haggling shoppers and shop owners. Amongst the anarchy of sensations one can't help but feel a sense of glee as if to create to a joyful chaos of colours within the mind's eye. Not moments after starting, they burst through the last crowd of people and race off towards the heart of the great citadel, leaving the market and its rich treasures behind them.

Approaching the citadel Laire and Arlan slow their speed to a halt and lean against the ornate stones and marbles twisted in vast sculptures that form the outer wall of the Watchers' barracks. Resting to catch their breath they look skyward through the thick canopy to find the sun now in its zenith. Arlan tilts her gaze to Laire with a sly grin.

"So? Any new treasures today?"

Laire grins and pulls a small pouch from his sleeve and bounces it lightly in his hand, "I'd say about 40 and 5 gold and maybe a silver ring we could probably sell later for a small profit."

Arlan replies with a chuckle, "I've always been envious of your quick fingers, all I managed was 7 silver and a now broken quill."

With a smug smile, Laire turns to Arlan, "Give it time my friend, and maybe one day you'll be as good as me." He winks. "Now let's hurry up and go see Bassiri before he decides to fire us."

They work their way around the towering defensive wall to the extravagant marble staircase that leads into the heart of the citadel. With multitudes of intricate winding columns forming archways overhead, they climb the stairwell, diverting to left into a passage leading to the western walls. Along the dark, narrow pathway the come to a small gap between two of the natural looking columns and slip into a hallway that one would not normally notice if they weren't looking for it. The dark corridor ends with a large wooden door, illuminated from both sides by two flame-less lanterns. They come to a halt at the door and Laire steps forward, taps five times upon the twisted wood, pauses and taps twice more. The sound of an opening lock echoes through the corridor and the door slowly swings open as if by its own will.

Many dark figures in cloaks shuffle about as they enter the hidden barracks, either heading off to their next shift or returning to rest and gather information before their next. They work their way through the many other Watchers, slowly weaving their way to the door at the very back of the room. The door to the commanding officer's study. As they approach the dark door, Laire once against raises his hand to tap upon its surface. Just as he lifts his arms, a deep voice sounds from within the room.

"Enter you two."

Awaiting them in the room is a man whose appearance seems to complete the atmosphere of the underground keep. A wiry, pale man with dark black hair and a slightly ominous presence stands with his back to them as they enter.

In unison the two kneel before him and recite the vow, "Strike sure, strike fast. We rid the streets of plague and corruption. As Watchers of the night we maintain the peace from within the shadows so that others may live in the light."

With a friendly smile unfitting his ghostly appearance, he turns to them. "You may stand."

His face grows serious as he crosses his arms and leans against the small table behind him. "As you may already be aware of, I have an important task for the two of you today."

He begins pacing through the room. "Information has been leaking out as of late and we've discovered the man who is the cause of it. One of our own men has gone rogue and appears to have turned against the Watchers. A man by the name of Orodreth Séregon. I sent spies to trail him and we found out that he's been fencing for an unknown group of mercenaries. Unfortunately though, the same spies never returned from the last trail and we suspect that they were discovered. We fear he may have others among us that are feeding him info but we are unsure. As I have high respect for the exemplary work you to have shown I know that I can trust both of you with such a mission. However I'd prefer if you maintain as much discretion as possible as we do not want to invoke suspicion within the ranks."

With a very serious tone, Arlan replies. "Do we have any information to go on as to his whereabouts?"

"He owns a small villa near the edges of the forest, bordering the farmlands; I advise that you begin your watch there. Now leave, you have much work to do. May your blades stay sharp." Waving them off he walks to a chair at the back of the room and sits, appearing contemplative.

"Your man is as good as dead commander," responds Laire with a wide smirk, kneeling before his superior officer once again.