"Yes," said the Phantom, and for ease of transport heaved Ayden up and over his shoulder, grunting with the effort. "This way."

They emerged from the narrow path into a comparatively sheltered little alcove into the cliff face. The Phantom cast a regretful look at it. "If it weren't so close to its original owners..." he muttered to himself. There was a little fire burning still, and some rations in packs here and there. "We'll take those," he said, halfway turning to indicate the convenient food source with a jerk of his head. "Leave the rest."

This instruction was mostly directed at Eledhe, who had been eying other debris such as pieces of momentarily discarded armor. She muttered something, but desisted from looting. Once they'd salvaged the rations, most of which were dreadfully boring but nourishing at the very least, there was a hurried bout of searching for shelter.

The Phantom was beginning to think his shoulder would drop off before he could put Ayden down, but Eledhe came around a corner and indicated behind her. "Cave, a ways back there. Should be big enough for all of us."

_________________

The rest of the group quickly followed, eager to be out of the steadily-deteriorating weather. The cave wasn't huge, but as Eledhe had predicted, it managed to hold them all fairly comfortably. One didn't retain much of a sense of personal space when one's only means of surviving the past five years was at times squeezing into rather unlikely locations.

Within five minutes, Kjan had gotten a fire going (helped tremendously by the fact that he'd stolen embers and some of the drier wood from the soliders' fire), and everyone was gratefully absorbing its heat while partaking of some of the 'borrowed' rations (nobody seemed too keen on going out and trying to hunt for something better). Ayden, once they'd determined that it was nothing serious, was propped up against the cave wall and left to wake up on his own terms. Once that was accomplished, Kjan promptly removed his boots and let his poor, frozen feet recover by the fire as he set about tending to a cut he'd only just discovered on his forearm.


Silvryn, for her part, was content to stare silently into the fire as the sounds of conversation buzzed around her. Though she stubbornly refused to admit it, she had been more than a little shaken by the whole episode with the river earlier. She considered herself to be a fairly strong woman - she had to be, in order to survive all that she had. And while she ordinarily had no problem admitting when she needed help, there was something about falling off of a log (and causing someone else to fall as well) that simply screamed 'damsel in distress.' It was...undiginified.

Bringing her knees up closer to her chest, Silvryn shivered slightly and drew the Phantom's cloak tighter around her shoulders.

...The Phantom. In her embarrassment over falling in the first place, she'd unintentionally (alright, a bit intentionally) avoided the topic altogether in hopes of not drawing excessive attention to it. Nonetheless, regardless of how undignified it had been, the Phantom had saved her life. The least she could do was seem adequately grateful about it.

Playing absently with the cloak's falcon-shaped clasp, Silvryn shifted a bit closer to the Phantom so that she could be heard better without everyone else listening in. "Phantom," she began uneasily, only to falter. Curse it, she'd never had a problem speaking to him before, and it wasn't exactly a complicated thing to say. Just go right out and say 'thank you' and be done with. Simple. "About earlier..." Curse it, curse it. She didn't pretend to be an exceptionally gifted orator, but she certainly was never at a loss when it came to words. Even as young as she had been prior to her 'death,' she had been recognized as one who had a way with words. She always knew what to say, and precisely how to say it. So just go ahead and say it!

"I...I owe you my life," she finally said, averting her eyes. "...Thank you."

The Phantom, equally uncomfortable with addressing this subject, cleared his throat in order to fill the awkward pause between when she stopped talking, and when he was supposed to start. "It's, ah, all part of the job," he eventually managed to get out, trying to sound halfway lighthearted. "You know, rebel leader has to make sure he drags his compatriots out of rivers when they fall in."

This was actually quite far off the mark from what he somehow felt he'd intended to say, and probably what she'd expected him to say, too. The Phantom groped vaguely for something to make further conversation. Nothing occurred for several more seconds. "Getting, ah, dry, then?" he inquired, abandoning the earlier subject. Thanks given, received, all fine and dandy and off we go to the next thing.

At this moment he unfortunately happened to catch Eledhe's eye, which was glinting with controlled mirth. He managed to infer in one glance that he would wax very violent if she did anything other than sit there lazily playing with a dagger.

_________________

For once, Dante's face actually portrayed something other than they typical "what-a-terrible-day-I-hate-my-life" demeanor. It was aghast, incredulous, and just a tad bit blue.

"You know," he said, looking directly at the Phantom, "What's this, some kind of game to you?! Just the next level from catching men unsuspecting in the woods and... and slipping skinks..." his voice trailed off, and then got stronger, loud enough for everyone to hear, "...to catching men unsuspecting in the woods and <i>stealing</i> from them!?"

He jabbed an unceremonious finger in Kjan's direction. The Phantom Grey opened his mouth as if to say something, but Dante merely opened his mouth wider. "You're just a lot of thieving fools, that's what! Pah! <i>The Phantom Grey.</i> What you are is just an overgrown boy Phaerin Grey! Still playing around with this... this..."

His face grew red as he fought for a word terrible enough to describe Kjan, and then, without so much as a nod to the ladies ears, exploded in a mass of expletives that he <i>certainly</i> would have never read on a map.

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<center>
"The piano is able to communicate the subtlest universal truths by means of wood, metal and vibrating air."

For roughly thirty seconds, everyone simply stared wordlessly at Dante in varying degrees of surprise. Even Kjan was speechless, though his gaze alone spoke volumes. Abruptly, he pulled his boots back on and rose to his feet. "Dante, please come here for a moment," he requested in a remarkably even tone. He waited for a moment, and when Dante didn't comply, he simply strode over to where the man was sitting. Despite Dante's continued resistance and the marked size difference, Kjan eventually got the stocky cartographer onto his feet and, tightly gripping his arm, led the man outside of the cave. Yes, he'd only just gotten dry. Yes, it was still raining. No, he didn't care.

Only once they were far enough away to be more or less muffled by the rain did Kjan release his hold. "What in seven levels of the underworld goes through your head?" he demanded. "I'd genuinely like to know. Do you think before you speak? Do you reason at all? Or can you not hear your own thoughts over the hollow whistling noise caused by the air blowing through? We've devoted almost a decade of our lives to this cause. Both of us are thought dead by anyone not within the rebellion - even our own families. I've been stabbed, imprisoned, and 'killed' more times in the past five years than many men see in a lifetime - especially that last one, as I'm fairly certain most men only die once - and Phaerin even more than I! It's not a game, Dante! We steal only when we'll starve otherwise. We lie only when the truth will get us hung. We kill only when we know that if we don't, they will, and they won't stop with us.

"The past is in the past. So a pair of preteen boys harassed you a little while you courted a woman who was only indulging you out of pity anyway - What of it? It was twenty years ago! In case you failed to notice, we're both grown men now, living in a very grown-up world. We were both willing to put it behind us; it was you who insisted upon breaking that pact. If anyone is still acting like a child, it's you."

Dante stoically stared at Kjan, willing himself to just step back, just walk away from this humiliating speech he was being given. But he couldn't. Something - a very unused part of him perhaps - knew that Kjan was dead right. Here these men were fighting for the very cause he'd always wished someone would fight for, struggling against the very opposition that robbed him of his diplomatic talent and demanded he be a mere, poor cartographer.

"You..." he grappled for an argument, an insult to hurl back at Kjan, anything but giving in. "Right, blame it on me now, eh?"

He was silent for a moment, as his gaze faltered from Kjan's face. "You've only been a while in this adult world Kjan Armadur. Maybe long enough to see that it's not all victories-and-cake-at-the-end-of-the-day, but not long enough to realize that you can't do a bloody thing about it. It might seem fine now, but when you're rotting in a prison cell, watching your friends executed before your very eyes, you're going to see that it's a cause completely lost. You and Phaerin and you're ragged band of outlaws can't just hide forever!"

The rain dribbled off the edge of his nose, the sides of his ear, making him further look a pitiful spectacle of ridiculous stubbornness.

"Not like I care," he finished shortly.

_________________
<center>
"The piano is able to communicate the subtlest universal truths by means of wood, metal and vibrating air."

"That statement's incorrect in more than one way," said the Phantom calmly, having seemingly materialized out of the rain. "One: I'm called The Phantom. Would appreciate if my name wasn't overtly tossed around. Two: this is not a band of outlaws. It's a well-organized rebel force and community, which you'd see if you visited my Keep." He paused. "Actually, you're right about the third one. We can't hide forever. So it's fortunate we don't intend to."

He eyed Dante for a moment longer, seemingly calculating if he was willing to listen to much more reason, and continued. "If you're supportive of our cause, you're welcome to join it. If not, you'll be joining it anyway, because I won't have you going back to spill my real identity to anyone who'll listen. Phaerin Grey is supposed to be dead, and he's stayed that way for the last five years. Kjan Armadur isn't technically alive, either. So. Take your pick."

_________________

Dante took a step back, and folded his arms across his broad chest.

"What a variety of choices! How will I ever choose?" he sneered, some of the old nastiness coming back into his face. "Fine then; I'll trek across countries with you on your 'missions' or whatever they are."

He paused a moment, eying this <i>Phantom Grey</i>, trying to read into him. No, he wasn't a boy anymore, and apparently Kjan wasn't either. <i>What they are doing is right,</i> a more sensible part of him argued. But he'd never liked people, noble-born especially, who'd excluded him from their world of high positions. Then again - wasn't that what these rebels were fighting against? Inequality? The conflicting reasoning told him that Phaerin and Kjan were stupid nobles yet, foolish boys who didn't know what they were doing. Then again, before he knew who they were, the stories of the illustrious Phantom and his daring band had always impressed him.

The face relaxed a little. "Well? Can we get back to the cave? This wetness isn't exactly helping matters," he said, with as close a tone he could get to friendliness without gagging. "And do I have to call you Phantom?"

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<center>
"The piano is able to communicate the subtlest universal truths by means of wood, metal and vibrating air."

Dante took a step back, and folded his arms across his broad chest.

"What a variety of choices! How will I ever choose?" he sneered, some of the old nastiness coming back into his face. "Fine then; I'll trek across countries with you on your 'missions' or whatever they are."

He paused a moment, eying this <i>Phantom Grey</i>, trying to read into him. No, he wasn't a boy anymore, and apparently Kjan wasn't either. <i>What they are doing is right,</i> a more sensible part of him argued. But he'd never liked people, noble-born especially, who'd excluded him from their world of high positions. Then again - wasn't that what these rebels were fighting against? Inequality? The conflicting reasoning told him that Phaerin and Kjan were stupid nobles yet, foolish boys who didn't know what they were doing. Then again, before he knew who they were, the stories of the illustrious Phantom and his daring band had always impressed him.

The face relaxed a little. "Well? Can we get back to the cave? This wetness isn't exactly helping matters," he said, with as close a tone he could get to friendliness without gagging. "And do I have to call you Phantom?"

_________________
<center>
"The piano is able to communicate the subtlest universal truths by means of wood, metal and vibrating air."

"Yes. Can't have Phaerin Grey brought back to life, you know," said the Phantom lightly, and turned to trudge back up the incline. His form wavered slightly, eventually melting into the grey of the pouring rain. He was slightly wary of Dante, a sentiment directly contradicting his outward mien on the subject. Dante Salone was not what you would call an enthusiastic supporter of their cause, by any means.

He ducked back into the cave. "Situation solved."

---

The next morning dawned as grey and dreary as had the one before, and, come to think of it, as the previous evening had declined as well.

"I'm sensing a theme," muttered Eledhe, sticking her head out of the opening and withdrawing it forthwith. "How far to the city?"

The Phantom shrugged, and abandoned his attempt to wake up Kjan. "Should be there by the end of today."

_________________

Kjan, who had been stubbornly resisting all attempts at rousing for nearly half an hour, opened one eye the instant the Phantom's back was turned and promptly groaned. Another day of lovely weather, it looked like. It was, at least, currently drier than it had been the night before, but for how long it would remain that way was yet to be seen.

"I know you're Phantom Grey and all," he muttered, propping himself up on his elbows, "but must everything adopt your chosen color scheme? What ever happened to the valiant heroes traveling under azure skies with birds singing in the background?"

With some effort, he stood up and went to select something from the rations that looked at least halfway edible. Stifling a yawn, he then joined the Phantom and Eledhe at the mouth of the cave. "Where to after town, by the way? Are we even certain of where our dwarves are, exactly?"

"It's not the dwarves we need to find," said the Phantom. "It's a dwarf. Singular. Provided he knows where his fellow dwarves are, as soon as we find one, we know where the rest are. That's where cities are convenient."

"More convenient if your face isn't all over the place with WANTED written in large letters underneath it," said Eledhe dryly.

"That's what cloaks are for," said the Phantom, and tugged his hood up. "For rain, too."

He turned around, meeting with the sight of various people obscured by their bedrolls, and at least a few still sound asleep. "I was going to ask if we were ready to go but I think it would accomplish fairly little at this point." He stepped over his own vacated blankets. "Oi! Rise and shine!"

_________________

((*pokes head in* Sorry for my absense of late- I'll try to get back into it now that November is over!))

Ash rolled over, pulling his blanket a bit further over his head, trying to conveniently disappear. He had never been a morning person, especially not after a long day of trudging through snow. Not that he had spent many days that way.

He grunted as someone poked a toe into his stomach. It hurt a bit, even through the blanket. Trying to pull his head farther into the blankets, Ash's toes poked out the other end. <i>Ah, what's the use.</i> The Phantom, and Kjan especially wouldn't give up until he was up and ready to go. He crawled out of the blankets and pulled on his boots. "All right, I'm up, I'm up." He muttered. It would take at least fifteen minutes for Ash to fully wake up and be his normal annoyingly cheerful self.

(Melda and potr said I could join ... so I'm joining! We've worked out that I shall be encountering your party in the town *is excited*

charrie bio up in charrie thread in charrie section )

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<center>Nothing but the Rain</center>

I is back.

---------------------

Ayden, once he had risen from his faint, had spent a very agitated night among the others in the cave. He was with the Phantom! Of all possible people to meet with, he had to meet up with one who wasn't pinned down by any one characteristic, according to the various stories. It seemed that no two people could decide whether he worked for good or ill. And now Ayden was stuck with him.

He had spent half the night trying to decide whether or not to try to sneak away, but finally gave up on that thought when he realized that everyone else in the group was arrayed between himself and the entrance, and in the dim light, he would never be able to pick his way past.

So when the Phantom hollered at everyone to wake them up, Ayden shoved his blanket off of his head and sat up, staring out of bleary eyes with dark rings under them. It seemed as though he had just fallen asleep moments earlier. Such was the way of rest--whenever you were agitated enough that you really needed it, it ended up being fitful.

Still, he had a clearer head now, though his eyes widened a bit whenever they lit upon the Phantom. Of course he wouldn't be making it to his rendezvous with Jaer, but what would he be doing? He voiced the question to the Phantom.

_________________

As various preparations took place, Kjan quickly stuffed his own supplies back into his pack, then set about extinguishing the fire. Taking one of the water flasks, he began emptying its contents onto the pile of embers, only to pause as he realized that one of the party members was still soundly sleeping on the ground. He stood still for a moment, the expression on his face making all too clear the debate that was going through his mind. Was it worth it? They had technically had a truce, his more rational side observed. But, his much louder irrational side pointed out, that truce had already been somewhat nullified by the previous night's events. And either way, it might still be worth it. Wouldn't it? Only one way to find out.

"Rise and shine, beautiful," he announced brightly, instead pouring out the water on the aforementioned sleeper's head. The resulting eruption of spluttering and cursing intermingled with loud threats was answer enough, Kjan reflected as he began yet again running for his life. Normalcy had been regained. It was worth it.


Nearly half an hour later, Kjan finally returned to their cave to find everyone packed and waiting somewhat impatiently. "Dante and I have finished scouting the area, sir," he reported a bit breathlessly, executing a sloppy salute. "We can safely proceed now."