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"Well either way, we'll end up dead, so take your pick," Lyra said. How had she managed to end up in this?

"Before we make anything happen, we need to speak with the queen! She is allied with the Kingdom of Ember, if she believes us and doesn't through us in the dungeon, the people can get going now and we can prepare." I stand up, people in the tavern started looking at each other in worry, "And we can't let word get out yet. No need of an up-roar..." I whisper to the cat. "And does anyone know some powerful healing?" I say as I hold my arm up.

Foxy tried to stand up

Dylan at this point still hasn't slept. He runs upstairs to check on the vixen, disappointing the other two females. Seeing her pained expression he softly rubs her cheek in a comforting manner. Speaking softly, he seems calm and cool on the outside, with his words of encouragement. "It'll be alright. It'll heal. We'll replace the bandages in an hour or two and reapply alcohol to clean it a bit more."

Underneath his cool expression, he gave off a feeling of anxiety and uneasiness. He knew something wasn't right and that it wasn't going to be OK.

"Well either way, we'll end up dead, so take your pick." Those were the actual first words the lupine girl said to him. She was obviously not a talkative gal, but turned out to be pessimistic one too. Maybe she never got some proper training, or maybe she was ashamed her powers weren't as flashy - in fact, her powers were mostly unknown to the group as far as he knew.
"Yeah, and so will many others if we don't do something about this," he growled, his tone sounding way harsher than he wanted it to. He wasn't try to scold the girl for being insecure, or well, being cautious, but she had to think beyond the six of them. If no-one stood up to these magic-wielding brutes, the Kingdom of Wood would be wiped off the map in a jiffy.
"Before we make anything happen, we need to speak with the queen! She is allied with the Kingdom of Ember, if she believes us and doesn't throw us in the dungeon, the people can get going now and we can prepare." That was the redhead talking. Randle let his eyes run over her arm for a second. Wait, limbs weren't supposed to bent that way... "And we can't let word get out yet. No need of an up-roar..." That would be a tall order now that she'd announced their plans to the whole tavern. Thankfully, most of the regulars and gossips were still in bed, so before the rumor was given a change to spread, the battle was already over. If everything went according to plan, that was.
Suddenly, the gal got a little closer and whispered to him: "And does anyone know some powerful healing?" In fact, he did know a couple of folks who could fix her up.

The sleuth scratched his hairless chin. "How about taking a little detour to a pal of mine? He'll patch you up and after that we go to see the.. err.. queen." He knew that woman. When thinking of her, he got immediately reminded of the vigorous slap she had given him the other day. Like it was his fault her son had gone missing. If it weren't for his tight friendship with her brother, Prince Hartlock, he would've cancelled the case.
"If anyone wants to tag along, go right ahead. We'll be back in no time," Randle said while he planted his crossbow on a stray chair. Then, he walked back into the cooling drizzle.

I nod towards the cat, "What is your name by the way? I don't think I ever asked... And if I did, sorry that I forgot." I hold my arm and give the healing potion to the She-Fox, "I went to a physician, she said this would help my arm and other wound... I am sure this should help your wounds and fractured bones." I followed the cat to where ever this 'pal' had dwelled. My arm was hurting every time I moved it, but I had to bare with it if I was to walk and do other things. "Damn Eels..." I mumble to myself, I hadn't delt with one in a couple years, but I do try to avoid them as much as possible. That time, my guard was down, and it will never go down again. "What happened between you and Queen Haelga? You seem familiar with her, but in a bad way..." I ask the cat, to start some small talk at least.

"What is your name by the way? I don't think I ever asked... And if I did, sorry that I forgot. I went to a physician, she said this would help my arm and other wound... I am sure this should help your wounds and fractured bones." Did he really forget to introduce himself? Damn, so he was getting sloppy.
They walked past the town's square, and as Randle was about to introduce himself, the girl said: "What happened between you and Queen Haelga? You seem familiar with her, but in a bad way..."
Not a story to be proud of, really. The Husk looked the other way, to the castle, where the soft-hearted but frightful serpent was resting in the huge tree on top of the building. How he liked that dragon. Nothing like a pure, sweet creature to pet after a hard day of deduction.
"Her kid went missing two years ago, and I was asked to track him down. Now, every case has some interrogations in it, but let's say that Queen Haelga wasn't fond of... cooperating. She slapped me across the face when I asked if her son had been seeing peculiar people recently, claiming I was accusing him of taking part in criminal activities." He shrugged it off. She wasn't the first client who had worked against him, but she surely was the most violent. "Seemed like a friendly dame at first, but folks do crazy things when they're scared." The worst thing about the case was that Randle had been right all along; the kid had grown close to some local moonshiners and went to a feast the other night, but didn't want to go home afterwards.
"Oh and the the name's Randle Pentecost by the way, and damn, sorry about that. One year out of business and I unlearn my manners," he chuckled, extending his hand, but awkwardly lowered it when he realized her arm was broken. Maybe there was something in the mead after all. "And you are?"

(( I somehow managed to smuggle my laptop into my bed hehe ))

"My name is Vil, isn't short for anything, the origin of my species is to have short and catchy names like that with one or two syllables." I walk with my head down, "And wow. I never imagined that about her. Honestly, I thought she was nice, although, I have never met her before." I laugh slightly then stop. I notice that my shirt was damaged badly from earlier with the Vampire Eel. I tuck it in the best I could to blend it in with the rest. "Although, I can understand it. She was scared and couldn't hold her fear and anger in, so she let it out on the nearest thing or person. My dad did it all of the time, he hit my mother once, but it never happened again. He didn't show back up for a week, and when he did, he was very cautious around her..." I stopped telling the story, my eyes turned grey as the memories of him flooded my brain. Mother never meant for it to happen, but it did, and she did everything she could to protect me... I try to stop thinking of them so I wouldn't cry.

(( Sneaky sneaky!))

Lyra glanced at the cat. "Do you have any idea how to get her to do anything?" She paced around, nervous. Fighting wasn't her strong suit, but she decided she would help. After all, the kingdom was in danger.

Dylan continued to look after the vixen. Sitting on the bed next to her, he situates her against him to she won't be hurt by her wounds and can still shift some. Softly caressing her hair, Dylan comforts her. His calm demeanor hides his anxiety and stress to everyone but her.

His hands shakes as his fingers softly run through her hair. His breath is shallow and not paced. His heart races through his entire body, as it is fast and the blood pumps just as rapidly.

"My name is Vil, isn't short for anything, the origin of my species is to have short and catchy names like that with one or two syllables," the redheaded girl introduced herself. So she was a shapeshifter, huh? Randle wondered which forms she could take on, but since she transformed into a believable Sage Dire earlier that day - or night? - by only looking at one, he was convinced she was quite a talented one too. "And wow. I never imagined that about her. Honestly, I thought she was nice, although, I have never met her before."
They never talked after she gave him a slap. Queen Haelga had returned to her royal quarters and her brother, Prince Hartlock, took her place and gave the sleuth all the intel he required. Only a week later, he returned to the castle with a bummed party animal at his side. And the Queen never even considered thanking him for it.

"Although, I can understand it. She was scared and couldn't hold her fear and anger in, so she let it out on the nearest thing or person. My dad did it all of the time, he hit my mother once, but it never happened again. He didn't show back up for a week, and when he did, he was very cautious around her..." Vil's fair eyes turned gray like heavy clouds on a rainy day. Her stance and expression radiated sorrow. Something terrible had happened.
"I'm so sorry," he muttered, ".. about whatever happened to them." Whether she decided to tell him about them or not he left to her, after all, they needed keep their spirits up if they wanted to confront those Dires. And the Queen..

After a little stroll down the market, they arrived at a crowded liquor-store, just a stone's throw away from the bustling market. A teeny young faun with blonde corkscrew curls poked his head of his window and cocked it a little.
"Heads up, Fjoldr, you've got yourself a patient," Randle told him, shaking his bony hand as he came closer. He turned to Vil for a moment. "Fjoldr here's mute, but as an retired army doctor, he definitely knows what he's doing." The Husk often wondered if the scrawny goatman set up a store like this on purpose, so he would never run out of alcohol again. Curiously, Fjoldr wasn't much of a drinker himself, so why he sold merchandise unknown to him was a mystery of its own.

I nod, it smelled sweet, but at the same time, of alcohol. I held my arm a little, but had to stop because of the pain. I followed them into a room that had many things in it. There were little nick-nacks and some bottles that have odd things in them. Some just had liquid, there were different colors of the liquid that ranged a monochromatic theme of red. I sat in a chair and very gently put my arm upon a table. I looked around and observed the room I am in. It was half empty, half full. There was enough space to move around, but not enough for more than two or three.
I had never seen a faun before, my mom told me stories about them and their nature, but some of it was false rumors spread by sell-swords, or story tellers. I read about them now and then, but very few books were written about them. There were more about the more iconic things like elves, dragons, and war between elves and men. The only time I had met a human was when I was still a teen. He had threatened to kill the entire village I lived in if we didn't give him what he wanted, but of course, one of our warriors killed him and a couple of his men. Enough to scare the rest away. I didn't like the humans, and if I had to choose between them and Vampire Eels, the slithery bastards would win in an instant.

Lyra had followed them to the store. "Interesting," she commented on the man. The crowded store was making her uneasy, but she tried to hide it. "How long has he been mute?" She remembered that she forgot to introduce herself. "My name is Lyra, by the way."

While she was waiting, Lyra decided to take a look around. There were all sorts of people milling about the store. She bumped into what seemed to be an elf with a long tail. "Sorry," she muttered, and glanced back at Vil. The wound on her arm looked moderately painful, and Lyra winced, imagining if she had had that same wound. There were a couple of humans in a corner, talking amongst themselves in quiet voices. Lyra shuddered, remembering long, white hallways and doctors and nurses yelling at her to hurry up. Her gaze went blank as she fought against the urge to run outside, away from it all. In the forest, there were no evil queens, and no injured foxes. But she had decided to help, and she couldn't back out now. She planted her feet firmly in the ground. "You okay?" she asked Vil.

The faun flashed a shy smile before taking Vil and the rest into the medic's room; just as stuffed as his store, but still spacious enough to fit two other people in it. Randle decided to wait at the door, since he was considerably larger than most. The young changeling sat down in one of the wooden seats scattered across the room, and put her broken arm on the table. Fjoldr glanced at it and nodded thoughtfully. Randle was convinced the guy had to set quite some fractures back in the army, as those were common ailments on the battlefield.
He leaned against the low wall and tried not the bump his head against the ceiling. Ah, the classical plebs house. Not made to house larger creatures like beastborns, centaurs or dragons.
"Interesting," a sudden voice said. Randle turned towards the sound and discovered that the lupine gal had followed them all the way here. "How long has he been mute?" Hm, some question that was. A question he didn't have a confirmed answer to, but his explanations seemed logical in his eyes.
"Fauns communicate through high-pitched whistles, usually made on those iconic pan flutes. Before they mingled with humans, there was no need for them to learn Common Speech, so I guess they're either really stubborn or just anatomically incapable of speaking," he shrugged, still keeping an eye on Fjoldr, who was gathering some bandages and tools.

"My name is Lyra, by the way." Hm, a common name in some regions, but this Lyra wasn't an ordinary wolf-girl by the looks of it. Even though she claimed she was not much of a fighter, Randle sensed she did have potential.
"Randle Pentecost. Pleasure to meet ya, Lyra," Randle nodded, extending his hand. But their little encounter was interrupted by a loud cracking noise in the operating room.
The Husk poked his head around the corner and saw that Fjoldr had dropped one of his valuable tonics. But the Faun shrugged it off and after kicking the shards into a corner, he went back to patching up Vil.
He put his hairy hands on the changelings arm and made a short, reassuring hum. Then, with some force and bone-cracking, he pushed her bones back into place, then assuring the stayed that way by wrapping her arm into some embalmed bandages. The ointment was to lessen the pain and speed up the recovery, and Fjoldr pressing his soft nose against it was genuine faun superstition. Honorable but odd creatures indeed.
"You okay?" Lyra had returned, while Randle had walked up to the faun to thank him. He tried to hand him a little pouch of gold to thank him for his services, but the overly polite creature shoved it back into his hands and gave him a few soft pats against his cheek by way of saying goodbye.
Alright, off to see Queen Haelga then...

She stayed just in front of the doorway of the small room, not wanting to get to close. Lyra shook the giant cat's hand. "Nice to meet you, too," She jumped at a crash behind the wall, and her heart began to beat faster. But nothing else happened, so she began to calm down. She watched Fjoldr pat Randle on the cheeks. Is that how they say goodbye around here? With Vil's arm patched up, they should continue to the queen next. She wondered how the vixen was doing. Did they ever bandage her wound? I hope she's going to be okay.

As my arm snapped back in place, the faun did some weird thing with his nose. My face went from in pain to confused. "W-w-wha-" I mumbled aloud. It was indeed weird, but it ended fast. I took my arm, which was straight again, "Thanks you for fixing my arm." I tell the faun. I get up and walk with the other two, I feel my arm which was in less pain than before. As we were beginning to leave, the faun, Fjoldr, patted Randle on the cheeks. I walked with them out, on our way to Queen Haelga. As we reached the gates to the castle, there were guards posted out, keeping people from getting in. I looked at Randle and asked, "Since you have a history with Haelga, do you think we can still get in?".

While on their way out, Randle secretly crammed his pouch of coins between to massive bottles of alto wine, for Fjoldr to find. It was the least he could do, as the Husk was well aware that renting a house so close to the square had its price. He opened the door and walked into the soft drizzle, listening to the tinkling of the silver bells hanging from the ceiling.
It was semi-cold outside, but still pleasant nonetheless. Randle pulled his trench coat closer to his chest and swerved to avoid a pool of mud and rain, but almost slipped. He surely hoped that the gals had missed his clumsy footwork. The three of them walked all the way from the central market square to the castle, which was built on a hill. After climbing some steps and approaching the guards at the gate, Vil suddenly said: "Since you have a history with Haelga, do you think we can still get in?"
The guards didn't seem to mind. Their bored eyes merely glanced at them, as if they were the dullest people in the whole Kingdom. Randle straitened his belt and tucked his dagger a little deeper.
"Well, I'm not a foe of the royal family, so we should be allowed to-.." The massive doors swung open. Right. So they were expecting them. Randle was well aware that the vassal had some mild clairvoyance, but he didn't trust the man. Not for one bit. There was more to the jittery, twitchy avian than one would think.

On the way to the castle, a stick caught Lyra's eye. She muttered to the others to not wait for her, and walked toward the small shop that stood on the end of the street. On closer inspection, it was not a stick, but a beautifully crafted staff. It was rounded toward the bottom, with vines tangling with each other until it reached the top, where there was a loop and hook. Lyra picked it up, and as she did, it began to buzz. She stared at it for a few seconds. "You interested in that?" A gruff voice made her look up. A burly man was staring down at her and the staff. "Um, yeah. How much is it?" She dug around in her pack for a few coins, and handed it to the man, then sprinted outside. She could just see Randle and Vil approaching the gates of the castle, and she sprinted to catch up.

The giant doors swung open, and Lyra stepped back. It opened into a long, stone hallway. "So this is where the queen is, huh? It's huge," she said, staring at the ornate walls.

The gates opened before Randle could finish his sentence, it was loud and the guards just sloped a bit. 'She needs better guards...' I wondered to myself. Lyra had slipped away and came back with a staff, I looked at it, but snapped back when she said, "So this is where the Queen is, huh? It's huge," I looked at the castle and observed the marble and ivory pillars and the malachite detailing. "And beautiful..." I say while my eyes are stuck on the building. There was a fountain on the left with hedges shaped to be dragons and deer. By the fountain was a hound with long, curled white fur and red eyes. It looked up at us and followed us in, "She's got nice dogs though.." I smile and we walk into the castle through beautiful, quarts and emerald doors and it reveals a very beautiful garden with Venus Fly-Traps of the walls, large wild flowers thriving form jade pots, and many other plants coming from the walls, other rooms and ceiling. I admire the place and inhale the sweet smell of nectar and honey. I looked up, snapping out of my trance, and noticed an empty throne. "Huh?" I mumble and a man walks towards us, his apparel was very much like a butler, but red. His hair was black and slicked back and his eyes glowed an icy blue. "The Queen is attending an important matter, if you could please wait." When he spoke, it revealed sharp teeth and a light accent(British) that had a hiss to it. His skin was pale and had some spots that looked to be burned. 'Wraith?' I thought to myself, they were very dangerous and had a way with words, but what would bring them here and why would they be working for a Queen? A powerful one at that! I squinted my eyes a bit, in confusion, but a bird had caught my eye and distracted me for a moment. He left into another room and nodded to three guards. They looked up and held their swords like we were wanted criminals. "Well damn..." I whisper.