Chapter 14 - His second departure
It was still dark. Crickets could be heard all around them, as could toads and early birds. On top of all that, of course, was the heavy thudding sound of dozens of armed men marching with all their equipment as they headed for war.
Felrus' armor had been repaired and polished in the days that followed their victory on the Siege of Gilneas. He had gotten new pauldrons - the right one being about two sizes bigger than the previous one. The bite scar on his shoulder didn't quite feel like it was getting worse, but... Was his shoulder swelling? He had poured all of the medicine the priest had given him at once. He felt like that was slowing that swelling down, but now he was completely certain it was making hair grow there, as a thick layer of white body hair had formed around the bite mark and was starting to spread towards his neck and chest. He did not think much of it, however. Not like it was hindering him in any way. If any, he actually thought his arm felt stronger, like his muscles were growing thicker there. Maybe there were some side effects to a worgen bite after all?
His shield was strapped to his back. It was an impressive protective piece; it was round at the top, with a spiky, triangular edge at the bottom. The front sported a metallic indent of house Plaguefang's crest; two crossed blades, one long and with a jagged edge, the other curved like a sickle. It represented how the Fang sought to destroy and rend the enemies, while the Plague was designed to disarm them and strike at precise spots. Strapped to his waist was his sword. It was a simple, yet elegant weapon. Normally, against heavily armored opponents, swords weren't very effective; penetrating plate was a task for piercing or bludgeoning arms. But as he would be facing more undead and demons, he had decided in favor of keeping that weapon. It was a medium-sized steel blade with a simple iron hand guard. The handle was a hand and a half long with a short iron spike at the bottom so he could pommel enemies at a close range.
The rest of his armor was rather standard equipment; other than his pauldrons, he wore thick plate around his chest and waist, with that red tabard of his nation over it. His arms sported gauntlets, and knee-high boots adorned his feet. His thighs and arms were covered by chain mail to allow him some mobility, and over it were more loose straps of plate. His new helm was inside of his bag, along with provisions for the trip. And that was all he carried.
Felrus was rather used to holding few possessions by now. Anything other than what he was wearing or was absolutely necessary for his survival was only dead weight. He doubted there would be many moments he wouldn't wear his armor, if his past experiences fighting the Undead Scourge were any indication. There was little point in taking spare clothes either. Hygiene was something to keep in mind, of course, but when his enemy were literal rotting corpses and siege weapons that threw diseased limbs at his army, a clean spare set of clothes was only to provide comfort rather than health. Spare weapons were always readily available at the barracks, as was spare armor. The food he was taking was just to make sure he would last the voyage.
He felt a little nervous about the long trip... He had never been to the sea before. Especially not for as long as getting to Kalimdor would take. He took in a deep breath, and focused on the task at hand. The burn scar on his face tingled a little as the cool morning wind came from the sea... That sensation brought a smile to his lips. He could still very vividly remember those terrible moments at the beach. His shield arm trembling from exhaustion as he tried to push those monsters back, his weapon arm being thrown over his head again and again as he stabbed them over the edge of his protection. His companions screaming, the worgen snarling and howling all around them... Then that horrible moment where a black shadow appeared from his left and, next thing he knew, he was laying down on the ground, his ears ringing. Then that sharp pain on his shoulder as the worgen tore his armor off and bit down on him. And then that deafening explosion from their right. That searing pain on his face as he was pushed forward against his father, men and worgen alike falling down... And all of a sudden, the beasts were gone. Felrus was laying down on the ground clutching his face and watching as the wolfmen chased after a dark figure far, far away from them, luring the whole pack away...
Only much later, after Darius Crowley walked out of the remains of Silverpine Forest carrying his unconscious brother did Felrus realize it had been Dalrus who saved him. He was told the boy was exhausted and bruised, but sported no life threatening injuries. Unlike Felrus, he needed only rest. And ever since then, each time the scar on his face hurt, it made Felrus smile. That pain was the most wonderful sensation for him. It was as if his body was reminding him he was still alive. Thanks to his little brother, he did not die on that day, forgotten amidst the sands and trampled over those feral monsters. He had no doubt Dalrus would rise to surpass even their uncle one day. And when he came back from this last war... Maybe he would make a world his little brother would never truly need to put those skills to work again. If not... He knew that, together, they would be truly invincible.
His cheery thoughts were brought to a short halt when Keel Harbor came into view. There were dozens of people there already. But they were few... Less than fifty, perhaps? He hoped more would come, but knew it was a vain thought. Greymane had been adamant about their position in this war. The only people going were those whose loyalty to Lord Crowley surpassed that towards their king. They might be calling themselves 'The Gilneas Brigade' but in reality they were basically Crowley's personal regimen.
Three large ships awaited them. The sails sported Gilneas' banner over them, though that was barely visible in that deep darkness that preceded the sunrise. Despite that, Felrus could make out the unmistakable figure of Lord Darius Crowley standing on his horse by the pier. He could only imagine how much influence or money was required to make that work. Just the act of getting the proper navigation charts alone would have been quite the ordeal, though he suspected his uncle had had something to do with it. Unfortunately, they had no means of establishing contact through magic, as Arugal was still holed up within the Keep. A shiver went through Felrus' spine as he remembered the awful tales of people and livestock vanishing during the night. The worgen were still out there... The thought made his shoulder itch a little. He wished he could do something about it, but even if he could remove his pauldrons now, his gauntlets made for a poor scratching tool.
They were as silent as possible, as no one wanted to warn the city guards. It took about half an hour to properly assign people to one of the three ships, then even more to account for everyone and finish loading the provisions for the trip. By the time the last man was embarking, the sun was casting it's light over the mountains surrounding the kingdom.
Finally, Darius Crowley himself stood before the boats along with the three captains. Falrus couldn't hear their conversation, but he figured they were discussing the final bits of details for their voyage. He was on his ship's deck now - The Silver Fang, he heard the vessel was called - his sack laying down on the ground next to his feet as he leaned over the balcony's edge. The floor under his feet was swaying, and the whole world felt like it was shaking up and down. Truthfully, it was starting to make him feel nauseous. He really wished they would leave as soon as possible... And just then, bells began to sound in the city.
Everyone was alarmed. All men turned to face the city to their east in worry, but soon they saw knights on horseback racing towards them. It would seem as if their little escapade had been uncovered. Felrus heard Crowley shout something to the captains, then suddenly turn around and race to meet the knights coming towards them. Felrus hesitated for a brief moment, unsure of what to do. Then he began to make his way towards the plank connecting their ship to the pier. He was almost there when the ship's captain suddenly stood in his way. "Where ye' think ye' goin', lad? Make yourself useful and get downstairs to get the oars movin'! We leavin' right now!"
Felrus blinked in surprise. "But, Sir Crowley-"
"Lord Crowley gave the order to go without him. And we be obbeyin' before old man Greymane throws us in the galleys. Now move yer arse before I shove it off the starboard!" And with that, the man unceremoniously pushed Felrus out of the way and proceeded to the captain's cabin, shouting orders to his sailors and the soldier crew the whole time. Felrus spared one last look back at the lone Darius Crowley who was quickly approaching the Gilnean knights before he grabbed his sack and rushed below decks as fast as possible.
The smell of wet wood, sweat and Light knows what else had died there filled his nostrils. But after months fighting things that really were dead and decaying, he barely registered that scent that at best qualified as annoying. Many of the soldiers were already in position along the rows, their fingers curled around the long oars that had just been lowered into the water outside. The quartermaster was also shouting orders, and Felrus decided to join the people who were spinning the wheel that would weigh their anchor up.
The next few minutes passed quickly. Once the anchor was properly lifted, Felrus took his place on the bench and, to the rhythm of a drum, began rowing. The heavy physical labor felt good to him; it helped ease that tingling, warm sensation on his shoulder. He focused on his breathing, on the rhythm of their movements, on the grunts of the many men and women who surrounded him, all ready and willing to defend their kingdom.
He couldn't tell for how long they remained there, or even how far they went. But at one point, the order came to retract the oars and unfurl the sails. Sweat was trickling down Felrus' brow when they finally finished, and he stood up along with the rest to head upstairs and check out the situation outside.
They were far off the coast of Gilneas now. He could see the Headlands; the small peninsula on the very edge of the kingdom. Crowley and the Gilneans sent to intercept them were nowhere to be seen. He could only hope Lord Crowley wouldn't get into too much trouble for his actions... But he also knew that had been an act of direct defiance towards Greymane. If the truth came out, he could be charged with treason... Or worse.
"Old Greymane ain't gonna like this." Said Stanley, one of the soldiers who also decided to join them for the trip to Kalimdor. Just like Felrus, he was the heir to his house, and was just a couple years older. He too was drenched in sweat and sea water from all the intense rowing below decks. The lad was a bit shorter than Felrus was, with a thinner face and smaller nose. "Business between him and Crowley was tense enough as is. This could be the spark to blow the casket."
"They have always reached diplomatic solutions before..." Felrus said, resting his elbows over the wooden railing to steady himself and cool down a bit. "And I know that Crowley isn't happy about the worgen wandering around Silverpine and attacking his people. They say that during the last full moon, people were hearing howling all over the place, and farm animals reportedly went missing. Not just that... But several people went missing too. Most of them, soldiers who were fighting the worgen on the ground with us." As he said that, Felrus' hand unconsciously went for his shoulder. "You think they began chasing the people they marked? Like... Hunters, seeking their prey?"
"You really think they are smart enough to pull of a trick like that?" Stanley scratched his head in confusion, his gaze sweeping over the horizon and watching Gilneas grow smaller and smaller in the distance. "From where I was, they just looked like beasts who knew how to walk like people. No intelligence behind those hungry eyes, that's for sure. Speakin' o' which, my old man asked me to thank your brother again. He really saved the day for him and the rest of the squad."
This made Felrus smile as he brought his hand towards the burn scar on his face. "Don't I know that... I don't even want to imagine what would have happened if it weren't for him. We would have been torn apart, or eaten alive, or both." Felrus looked towards the general direction of the Plaguefang Estate, which already had vanished entirely in the distance. He wondered what Dalrus would be doing then. Perhaps resuming the training with their uncle? Felrus' nose wrinkled a bit as he remembered their mother's brother. Uncle Silvius had always been a vague, mysterious figure for him. He never interacted much with the man, and when he did, he would always offer the proper formality rather than familiar casualty. Even his father said he could never tell what was going on inside that man's head. He was reminded of what Khaltuz told him the day Felrus inquired about what kind of person his uncle was. 'You see, son, in this world, there are three kinds of people. Those who are free to come and go as they please, those who aren't... And those who are capable of coming and going as they please, regardless of allowings. Your uncle fits in the third category. The kind of person who's climbed the way up from the bottom, not letting anyone stop them or tell them what to do. But that's also the kind of woman your mother is. Those two are more alike than I care to admit. Maybe you got a few of that in you as well, eh?' Although Felrus was very sure he had very little of that side of the family's... Capability... He had no doubt that was exactly the kind of person Dalrus was becoming. He still couldn't believe his little brother had jumped all the way down from the wall, then used an explosion to draw the worgen away from them. "I will miss him greatly. But I know that when I get back, he won't be the same as before."
"Speaking of that..." Stanley took a quick glance around to make sure no one was eavesdropping on the conversation, then leaned in closer, one hand covering his mouth as he spoke in a hushed tone; "This isn't the first time you're leaving him behind, right?"
Felrus had to control himself so as not to form a fist with his hand. Fortunately, all his past experiences had taught him to keep a tight control over his emotions. Not even looking back to face his friend, he spoke in a casual tone: "What's that supposed to mean?"
"Come on now, Fel... We heard the rumours. 'Bout a year ago, your father and brother stirred up some trouble by the gates... And up until recently, I really don't recall seeing much of you in the meetings. Your father always gave us the slip whenever someone asked about it, but we aren't stupid..." A mischievous grin was forming on the lad's mouth as he stared at Felrus expectantly. "You did it, didn't you? You slipped under the wall and went off to fight!"
Felrus tapped his fingers against the railing, his eyes lowering to the pristine water below. He could see the waves crashing against the board as the ship was propelled forward by the wind against its sails. He then rubbed his temples and sighed. "Eh, I guess now it doesn't matter much anymore, since we're all basically traitors at this point... Yeah. I managed to go and fight in the war for a whole year."
"Holey... A whole year!? Fighting those things, out there?" Stanley covered his mouth in surprise, then looked around to make sure still no one was eavesdropping. "No wonder you didn't so much as flinch when those things showed up for the first time! You already knew what to expect, how to fight them! What was it like? Where did you go? Come on, tell me!"
"Be quiet, you!" Felrus almost hissed. "Look, it was no grand, noble adventure, alright? It... The things I saw... It wasn't pretty. Not in the least." He sighed, then ran his gloved fingers up along his hair. "The undead, they... They are a plague, in every sense of the word. They arrive at a place, they kill everything they touch, they spread, and look for more to kill... And for every person they kill, that's another one added to their ranks."
Stanley nodded, now he, too, lowering his elbows against the railing and scooting up closer to Felrus to make sure their conversation wouldn't be overheard. "Did you see any of them? You know... The demons? Or Prince Arthas?"
Felrus hesitated, then, avoiding eye contact with his friend, he nodded. "Yeah... Yeah, I saw demons... And I saw Arthas too. Before he..." Felrus was about to say 'went insane,' but thinking back on it, hadn't it been there all along? Ever since Andorhall, or maybe even before that, he knew something had snapped inside the prince. That... Obsession. That hatred... Perhaps, it wasn't that damned sword that drove him past the edge, or the time he spent in the cold Northrend. Maybe all that did was help bring out something that had always laid dormant inside of him... "...Before he went to Northrend."
"Oh, wow! You actually did!? What was he like? What were the demons like? Did you kill one?" Stanley was clearly trying to hide his excitement, but was doing a poor job at keeping his hushed voice low.
"I already told you to be quiet, damn it! No, I... Not exactly. The ones I did fight..." Felrus furrowed his brows as he was reminded of the demonic beasts he had faced during his travels. "I mean... None of those were used against us this time. But... Yeah. I did have to fight some of the demons... But I don't think any of them were exactly of a high... Quality?" He shrugged. "The ones I fought were little more than beasts. They walked on four legs, like hounds... And had large spikes around their body. But the worst thing about them was... They had these tentacles coming from over their shoulders. I saw them pierce a mage with one..." A shiver ran down his spine as the memory assailed him. "Poor man... He was dried up to a husk. Didn't do much against us soldiers, though. I guess that was some sort of... Mage hunter beast. It looked as if it were feeding on magic. And I also remember seeing the other ones... The ones that looked like golems, covered in green fire."
"Oh, I heard of those before!" Stanley said, his eyes gleaming as he tried to keep his mouth from smiling. "Infernals, right? They say those are as large as a house, and they fall from the sky like meteors..."
"Yeah, that's not too far off the mark..." Felrus' eyes half closed as he stared into the shifting waters below. "I only saw one. That's... More than I ever want to see again. One moment, we were defending the point, holding the undead waves back... And then... I heard this really loud noise from above. I look up... And there it was. Falling from the sky, a green, flaming meteor... It hit the watchtower just next to us. Three people died from the impact alone. Then, from that smoking crater, it rose... It had a body made of stone, but was completely covered in that... Horrible green fire. Every step left smoldering marks on the floor. Whenever it swinged at us, more of those flames would fly off... Our defenses simply melted against it. I really thought we would die right then and there..."
Even without looking, Felrus knew Stanley was open-mouthed as he listened to the story. "Bloody hell, mate... And how did you beat that thing? Or did you escape?"
Felrus squeezed his fists lightly. "We... At the last moment... Reinforcements came." The sound of the horn of Lordaeron sounding from the hills next to them was still so loud and clear upon Felrus' ears... He remembered the exact moment he looked up and saw Uther the Lightbringer descend upon the undead horde with a squad of knights, all mounted on horseback and annihilating the undead as they charged straight through their ranks, the infernal following suit soon after. Felrus would never forget the moment he saw the face of the first paladin for the first time. It was like seeing an angel. The man simply... Radiated confidence. Felrus remembered that he had tears in his eyes as he watched the leader of the Silver Hand throttle over the field to meet with Arthas... And then there was that discussion. Felrus hadn't heard exactly what was said, but the prince simply turned and left as Uther looked distraught.
From what he heard from the other soldiers, Uther had been Arthas' mentor as a paladin. It was he who taught the prince how to wield the Light and bring evil to justice. Felrus could only imagine what he had felt when he heard what Arthas had done... And then, to be killed by his own pupil and have the ashes of the king stolen. Arthas had truly fallen... In ways Felrus never even thought possible for a human to. How could one become so wicked? So twisted? So... Sadistic? Especially the crown prince of Lordaeron, one who would never need for anything in his life. He would never understand what could lead a person to that.
"Blimey... Must have been rough. Truth be told... Just seeing the first of those zombies already had me trembling in my boots." Stanley's voice brought him back to reality. "I had never even killed anyone in my life before... Let alone something already dead. At least I had my father, and the whole unit helping and supporting me... But you were all alone, weren't you? How did you manage not to lose it?"
Felrus thought a bit about his answer before replying. "Well... I just kept on thinking about what I had to protect, you know? My country, my city, my family... Especially, my brother, Dalrus." His scar throbbed slightly as he said the name, and that brought a smile to his lips. "His entire life, Dal's been behind the wall... He's never seen the world outside. He was pretty happy there. No worries, no threats... Just... The peaceful life behind those walls. And you know what? That's how everyone should be able to live. Without having to fear some enemy coming over to exterminate them. I kept thinking of those things... I thought that every undead I killed was one less that my family would have to worry about. I couldn't die just yet... Not when I had something so important to protect."
Stanley let out a little chuckle at that. "Well, that's cheesy. But nothing wrong with an answer like that. Me... Guess I'm on the same boat as you, in more ways than one." The two shared a laugh at that. "I got me parents back home... My sister... And a baby brother waiting for me. Gotta make sure that when he can finally walk on his own, he walks into a world without these nasty buggers, eh?"
"That's the spirit!" With a wide grin, Felrus patted his friend on the shoulder. "Nothing's gonna stop us. This time, we bring the fight to them. And we will finally be joining the Alliance! Can you believe that?"
"Oh, yeah! Speaking o' which, you saw them, right? Dwarves, elves, griffons?" Stanley was once again growing too excited to keep his voice low. "What were they like?"
"Ah, yeah... We met a band of friendly dwarves, looking to hunt down a dragon. I even made a friend there!" Felrus looked up to the sky, watching the clouds pass over them. "His name was Dalgund. Pretty skilled engineer, he carried around a hand cannon. Can you imagine that? A cannon small enough to just carry into the battlefield! He said it was actually called a 'mortar'. Dwarves make the most amazing things... Alright, you're not gonna believe this. They had a machine... That allowed them to fly up in the sky!"
"Come on, now you're just pulling my leg." Stanley lifted a brow in doubt. "Demons falling from the sky and small cannons you can carry around I can believe, but flying machines? Quite while you're ahead, mate."
"No, I swear it! Dalgund said it was called a 'Gyrocopter'. It had these sticks on top called 'helixes', and they would spin so fast, it would lift up into the air, and it could even carry a person! Well, a dwarf, actually. I don't think they could hold a human. But it also had guns on it, so they could fight enemies from above!"
"What, was it powered by magic or something? Because I've seen the mages make rocks float and stuff." Stanley crossed his arm in disbelief.
Felrus shook his head. "No, no, that's the amazing part! There was no magic at all! It was a mechanical engine! They had electricity stored inside, and that was what made the whole thing work!"
"So... They could fly, and didn't use any magic. That's a tall story." Stanley shook his head. "Enough about dwarves and their inventions... What about the elves? Surely you saw some! I hear the ladies are very... Elegant."
"Ah... Yes. A small group of them joined us, yes..." Felrus hesitated. He didn't exactly have fond memories of his interactions with the elves. "They are a... Mysterious people. I don't know, I just... It sort of feels like, when an elf is talking to you, they are talking down, you know? Like they think they are better than you."
"Aye, I heard that too. Most elves are pretty snobby." Stanley snorted. "But that's not what I'm asking. Elves live thousands of years, but they never age! So... Did you meet one? What do they call... A cougar?" A malicious grin was spreading over his face now. "Don't try to lie to me on that one, I won't believe none of those immortal ladies wasn't interested in fresh meat!"
"Get your mind out of the bloody gutter, will you?" Felrus said as he felt a blush form over his nose and cheeks. Truth be told... There was a certain enchantress there who, at an occasion, shot him a very unnerving smile... He shook his head to rid himself of the memory. "Besides, they aren't human. Not like something even could happen between us. We are pretty much bugs to the elves."
"Don't spoil me fantasies, mate! At least give me something about them!" Stanley patted Felrus on the back, that malicious grin still plastered over his thin face. "Is it true their faces are spotless? Their eyes glowing green? That they are all lean, full of... Curves?"
"Yeah, Fel, don't keep the beans to yourself! Is it true that their eyebrows are as large as their ears?" Dalrus said, bringing an apple up to his mouth and taking a huge bite of it soon after.
"Actually, yes, that was sort of-" Felrus blinked. Then both him and Stanley turned around to look at the young rogue who was squatting over a closed barrel against the wall just next to them, the bitten apple on his hand as he chewed and looked at them. "What?" He said.
Felrus blinked in absolute astonishment. "Dalrus!? What the... Where... How...?" Looking back over his shoulder in desperation, Felrus reached out with his hands and pulled Dalrus down from his spot. The youth let out a loud protest, but did not fight back as he was dragged under the stairs leading to the upper deck. "What are you doing here!?" Felrus hissed, Stanley leaning against the stairs next to them and trying to hide them from view.
"Jeez, nice to see you too, bro." Dalrus replied, dusting his black tunic off and taking another bite of his apple. "What do you think I'm doing here? I came to help you!"
"Dalrus, this isn't a game!" Felrus run his hand over his eyes and sighed. "I am going to war, Dalrus. We are going to fight the demons and the undead in their own territory. This is nothing like Gilneas! This time, we won't just be defending behind the safety of a giant wall!"
"Whaaaaaat? You mean other kingdoms don't build giant walls around their borders?" His brother replied, one hand placed on his cheek as he made an exaggerated expression of fake surprise. "Jeez willikers Fel, and here I thought we would be sitting on those flying machines of yours and bombarding them all from above!"
Felrus had to close his eyes and take in a deep breath to calm down. Had his brother always been this infuriating? "Dal, I am telling you right now, we are going to a very dangerous place. You're going to get yourself killed. Do you understand!? You could die out there! What will mother and father think without you? What will our uncle?"
"I don't know, Fel. I guess the same they would if something happened to you?" The boy shrugged, then swallowed and took one more bite from his apple. "What are you so mad about? I can look after myself. It's you and your muscle head that I'm worried about. I'm here to make sure you don't get yourself killed."
Felrus opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out. He closed his eyes once again, and had to take another deep breath before addressing his younger brother. "Dalrus. I am your older brother. You listen to me. I can take care of myself just fine. This time, I will be fighting alongside the entire Alliance against these monsters. And this time, there won't be a surprise worgen attack in the middle of the fight."
"Yeah, says you." Taking one last bite, Dalrus flicked the core of his apple over his shoulder without even looking. It made a perfect arc through the stair steps above them, bounced off the railing and fell onto the water below. "Don't know if you paid attention to our old man, but apparently, keeping you alive is my job. It's kind of why I even bothered learning how to wield these since I was five." With a flick of his wrist, suddenly Dalrus was holding a long, curved dagger with fanged patterns along it's blade on his left hand. Felrus lifted his brows at that, as he had no idea where that weapon had come from. "This is going to be the biggest, deadliest fight of your life. And I already saved you once before. You really think you're not gonna be needing me now?"
Felrus had to lower his eyes as the scar on his face throbbed once more. His hand unconsciously lifted up to pat it, and he was forced to say: "No... But... Dal... You're not ready for this. It's too soon. Maybe after a couple more years with uncle Silvius..."
"Yeah, I'm sure that's what you would love to say to me two years from now." Dalrus cut him off. "And again two years later. Fel, I get that you want to protect me. But aren't we switching roles here? You're the Fang, I'm the Plague. Your blade in the dark, remember? Come on, bro. Together, we can do anything! Even take down a horde of demons!" Dalrus was shooting him a cocky grin now. "I mean, come on, how much worse than the worgen could they be? And I already managed to kill one of those! Also, how's the shoulder?"
Felrus winced at that, and his hand suddenly went to the spot where the worgen had bit him. "It's... Fine. I'll be fine." He said, looking away from Dalrus.
Felrus heard him sigh. "Yeah, I thought so. We don't know what kinds of effects those things have on humans yet. The priest made that medicine for you, right? Something about infusing it with the power of the Light to counter the foreign energies of the worgen? Bet you didn't even bring some of it along, did you?"
"Dalrus, I told you, I am fi-" He began to say, then suddenly there was a bright flask shaking in front of his face, held firmly between Dalrus' fingers. "That's what I thought." Said the rogue. "Good thing I had the intelligence to bring some along. I knew you'd be stubborn enough to try and fight wounded."
Felrus hesitated, then, finally, he threw his arms in the air, his father's words echoing in his mind. 'Those who are free to come and go as they please, those who aren't... And those who are capable of coming and going as they please, regardless of allowings.' Seemed as if his little brother fit quite easily into the third category. "Blast it, Dalrus... I guess I couldn't keep you away even if I wanted to, eh?" Finally, Felrus broke into a smile, then he surged forward and wrapped his arms around his younger brother's waist. "I'm so happy to see you, brother... You're right. Together, there's nothing we can't do."
Dalrus, taken by surprise by that gesture, chuckled a bit, one hand patting his brother on the back as the other continued to hold his medicine up in the air. "About time you realized. OK, now tell me the truth. Do elves really have eyebrows so huge they stick out of their faces, or was Silvius just pulling my leg on that one?"