Kjan was on his feet in an instant, only to have to duck in order to narrowly avoid an empty tankard that came from seemingly nowhere. He was beginning to think that chaos simply followed their little party like a shadow and then waited for the most inconvenient moment to strike. Granted, tempers were bound to flare any time that alcohol and a controversial subject were combined, but he liked to think that they at least had something to do with. Which they did, indirectly. Or at least, the Phantom did.

Through the brawling masses, Kjan was just able to catch a glimpse of said Phantom maneuvering his way toward...somewhere. Decidedly not the exit, but somewhere. He casually ducked under someone's swinging fist, then began to weave his own way through the pandemonium. Pausing about halfway through, he spotted the bard who had so clearly impressed the Phantom earlier. She was being cornered by several of the instigators of the fight, as well as quite a few others. It didn't take a genius to figure out from there exactly what the Phantom's intent was.

Cursing under his breath, Kjan plunged deeper into the fray, stopping every now and then to get his bearings. He sucked in a sharp breath as a flailing limb made contact with the cut on his arm from the night before, then stood up on his toes to attempt to locate the Phantom again. There. Still moving steadily toward the damsel in distress, just like any good hero would do. And toward easily a dozen men who didn't seem like they'd take kindly to anyone getting in their way. So, with an air of mild resignation, Kjan did what any good "sidekick" would do.

"It's the Phantom!" he shouted over the noise, gesturing wildly toward the door that just happened to be the furthest away from the real Phantom. "The Phantom Grey's escapin', he is! Saw 'im myself! Don't let 'im get away!"

"Whoa there, thank you kindly, sir, but I believe the young lady's just fine without -" the Phantom ducked a heavily attempted left hook and gave Haiyya a nudge toward the nearest exit. "Better make for it," he advised with half a grin. "Phantom Grey, at your service." And he deftly overturned a table into his attacker, sending him off-balance.

The commotion escalated into near a stampede for a moment, everybody making for a different exit - some to catch the imaginary Phantom Kjan had indicated, some to escape him, and some to avoid losing valued body parts on the confusion. It was at that very tricky moment when everybody was shouting for everybody else to get out the way, nobody knew quite where he was going, and exasperation was running high enough for there to be quite a danger of having a bottle smashed over one's head, when -

"What's all this, then?" a voice boomed from the doorway, turning a few heads. The Phantom in particular swiveled sharply, grabbing to jerk his hood up. Next instant there was a disturbing number of soldiers intermingling with the roused general populous, and a suddenly subdued air about those who had been brawling with their neighbors a moment before. The man who appeared to be a general ducked under the low lintel of the inn's door, scowling. "Who's responsible for this commotion?"

The innkeeper, wringing his hands, scuttled forward. "Beggin' your pardon, sit, the bard was just singin' a bit about the Phantom Grey, and things got a touch out o' hand -"

"There'll be no tales of Phantom Grey! Who's this bard?" he demanded, scanning the gathered occupants of the common room. "I've a mind to -"

But they never found out what he had a mind to do, because with remarkable speed the Phantom had exited along with said bard and the various members of his party who might not have profited from an encounter with the residential law enforcement. He hoped briefly that Ayden and Ash could be rediscovered later, but didn't worry much about Eledhe. She'd pop up much the better for having given a few black eyes.

Once they were far enough away from the back entrance of the inn, the Phantom turned to Haiyya. "Very flattering, that was," he said, grinning, "but in the future I'd advise you sing of safer subjects."

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(sorry for brevity, tired and need to do homework...)

Haiyya, still in shock from the abruptness of everything, had managed to snag her instruments before being unceremoniously propelled out said door. The <i>Phantom</i>? In the flesh?

"Safe?" she stammered, then realized that she was letting her shock overtake everything, which was definitly not good. "What subject is safe nowadays?" was the only rejoinder she could come up with. She really needed to work out this shock thing.

"And -" Haiyya held up a hand, forestalling further comment, "I'm sorry, but I could have sworn I heard you say you were Phantom Grey. You slightly sozzled, or just trying to be funny?"

They were in the dark, cobbled main street of the town - one of the only two streets, actually. Risking a glance at the warmly lit door of the in, the bard couldn't help noticing that the golden glow in the doorway was being disturbed by a solid mass of silhouettes - the patrons emptying out onto the street.

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<center>Nothing but the Rain</center>

Kjan, having fallen back a bit to make sure that they weren't being followed, arrived just in time to hear the bard's response. Why did people always assume that they were lying? It wasn't as if they'd ever seen the Phantom before; for all they knew, the boy down the street was the Phantom. "No, no, he's telling the truth for once," he assured her as they moved further into the dark gap between two shops. Better safe than sorry, with the increased number of potential eavesdroppers. "And may I be the first to congratulate you, milady, on achieving the impossible." He leaned against the side of the building and folded his arms across his chest with a smirk. "I didn't think his ego could get any larger."

"Somehow I don't think you'd be talking of inflated egos if she'd been singing about you," returned the Phantom wryly. He cast a glance about them, at the darkened street and the inn opposite. Not exactly the quietest, most relaxing evening he'd ever experienced, but if all went well they could still obtain a few beds for the night. Nobody had recognized them, despite Kjan's shout.

"Aye, I'm Phantom Grey," he said, turning back to Haiyya. "I hope I'm not wrong in thinking that you may be somewhat supportive of my cause, and therefore not inclined to alert the nearest authorities? I might have to go to lengths to prevent it, you see, and we've got our share of reluctant companions." He winked, and then eyed her contemplatively. "I suppose if you still don't believe me, however, there's not much point debating it, because the said authorities are hardly concerned about a Phantom Grey impersonator."

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Jate had listened intently to the song about the Phantom. Really, all these people who think he's so wonderful...I don't understand it! he thought to himself. And yet a small part of his mind told him he did understand, a small nagging voice described to him exactly why people followed the man.

He didn't get a chance to listen to the voice, though, as a fight broke out near the bard. On edge for fear of being discovered, Jate nearly leaped a mile when a pitcher flew by his head. Ducking, he stooped down and edged toward the door --which the Phantom and Kjan had just disappeared out of. Before he made it, he came face to face with a snarling man. "Wot, you want ta go somewhere?" the man slurred. In exasperation at being waylaid by a drunk, Jate shoved the man hard into a table and ran the rest of the way to the door, dodging fights and flying plates as he went. He had just reached it when soldiers came filing into the inn. Relieved at getting out, Jate came up behind the Phantom.

"Really, do you have to cause such a commotion everywhere you turn up? I was looking forward to a hot meal and an actual bed tonight," he griped, resting on his heels.

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going on a journey through my old claims

"It's in the job description," Kjan replied flippantly, waving a dismissive hand in Jate's general direction. "We're rebels - rabble-rousers, I've heard us called. The least we can do is live up to that reputation by rousing the rabble from time to time. And anyway, we hardly had anything to do with the fight this time; that was courtesy of our friend here." Here he gestured vaguely in Haiyya's direction before continuing. "In regard to an actual bed, it may still be possible, though you'll have to take up the hot meal with the inn's cook."

Of course. He just couldn't have gotten away cleanly. Instead, he was stuck with Ash, the one who hadn't seemed to do much of any relevance at all in whole day that Ayden had known him. Instead, everything seemed to involve tiresome humour. And now Ayden was stuck with him, and indirectely, with the Phantom.

Still, Ash was taking him outside, which happened to be the direction that Ayden wanted to go. Perhaps outside he might have a chance to slip away.

As they walked through the doors, the cold air outside snatched Ayden's breath away quickly, and he grimaced. Of course his hasty escape plan would put him in the middle of nowhere when the temperature was somewhere far too low.

Yet it didn't seem as though he had much choice. He was thinking about hitting Ash over the back of the head when a clamour arose in the tavern behind them. Voices. And shattering pottery. Ayden turned as though to head back inside and see what was happening, then spun on his heel and sprinted off at a run to the nearest horseline, snatching the reins from a man who was about to mount, and mounting and riding off on the horse.

At least, that was the plan. Whether the beast was dumb, stubborn, or just had a malady and could only turn to the left, Ayden had no idea. What he did soon find out, though, was that the only turns he could make were to the left. And the horse didn't always want to turn even then.

Intent on galloping to wherever it was that it was going, the horse paid little heed to the rider on its back, racing around the few buildings of the village with some devilish plan. It worked.

Coming around the side of a store, Ayden looked up just in time to see the signboard in front of his face. Then, it magically transformed into a ring of stars that seemed to make him somewhat dizzy, and then they teleported him to the ground in front of the Phantom. And his group. Ayden groaned.

He hated it when he got teleported by those nasty stars.

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Haiyya, having mastered her shock, at least outwardly, bowed in response to Kjan's gesture and turned to the man claiming to be the Phantom, returning the wink. "Let's just say that I'll ask for neither proof nor verification. That way I'll know nothing that I don't need to - ignorance is bliss, yes?"

The bard glanced around the corner at the inn. "Use the back door if you're going to arrange for rooms. It's through the stableyard - in fact, I'll just go with you. I need a bed for the night, as well, and Reynolds is the only game in town. Besides, he likes me. And I think he was in the kitchen, so he won't have had a really clear view of my part in the ... disturbance. He's not bad, really - you just got to be sensitive and play him."

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<center>Nothing but the Rain</center>

The Phantom bowed. "Assistance of any kind always appreciated. Better if Kjan does the organizing of accommodations, though." He indicated his second-in-command. "I'm a tad too recognizable of late. Besides, they may be some amount of dissension in the ranks." He cast a glane over his shoulder at Ayden, flat on the ground, and the less than happy Jate. And where was Dante?

"Rooms for the eight of us, then," he finished. "And, ah, perhaps the ladies would like to room together." This could have been misconstrued as considerate if one didn't know Silvryn and Eledhe. As it was, accompanied by a rather mischievous grin, the Phantom seemed somewhat opposed to either female party member sleeping a wink. "Though of course you could have guessed that."

Turning, he bent to haul Ayden to his feet. "Why is it that every time I turn round you've fallen in something? It's most distracting." Half-turning, he nodded to Jate. "Eh, you can stop complaining. Though if you end up getting relegated to the floor due to a disappointing lack of available beds, I give you every right to complain long and loud. As long as you're not in my room."

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Silvryn, who was finding this evening less enjoyable by the minute, opened her mouth to protest, but Kjan was already gone with a sweeping bow that just happened to put him in the perfect position to nick a small pouch of gold from the Phantom's person. Tossing the sack up and down, he saluted casually and went off to make the aforementioned arrangements.

Ten minutes later, Kjan returned with Eledhe in tow. "Four rooms," he said, tossing four sets of keys and a considerably lighter money purse toward the Phantom. "Two beds each. Divide them up as you please, though if either of the ladies is averse to sharing with the other, do know that I would be perfectly willing to serve as a substitute."

Eledhe opened her mouth to protest almost before Kjan had stopped talking, but she happened to catch sight of Silvryn poised to do precisely the same thing, and did a rapid change of expression. "When you find the circumstances that would compel me to share anything with you," she said instead, addressing Kjan, "kindly keep them to yourself."

They trooped back into the common room, which was now slightly the worse for wear. The Phantom tossed keys in various directions, with instructions to divide themselves up as they would, and flicked the last pair at Silvryn. "Don't kill Eledhe. She can be somewhat useful at times."

"How very complimentary," said Eledhe, already stationed with a mug of ale and not looking predisposed to retire any time soon.

"Never pretended to be charming. That bed is calling," said the Phantom, and disappeared.

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Ash caught one of the keys and found the right door, unlocked it, and ducked inside. He left the door open a crack, so whoever chose to room with him could come in. With a sigh of relief, he collapsed on the bed. It had been a long day- walking, more walking, avoiding tavern fights, chasing down Ayden...

Ash sat up and pulled off his boots and cloak, crawled under the blanket, and was soon fast asleep.

The common room was almost deserted, which Reynolds, the landlord, wasn't too happy about, so Haiyya ordered the most expensive wine on the list and established herself next to the leather-clad female, who looked to be a mercenary of sorts. Odd, but times were a-changing. Or so she hoped.

She took a few sips of her drink before speaking. "So, what business do you have in a sleepy mountain hamlet? And what's the likes of you doing with the likes of him - if you'll pardon my asking," Haiyya added in a tone that wasn't really asking pardon at all. Her fingers, wandering idly over the strings of her harp, began to absently pick out a Gheldian melody.

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<center>Nothing but the Rain</center>

Eledhe gave Haiyya a sidelong glance, and tipped her mug to glean the last few drops of ale. Then she set it on the table. "By 'the likes of him'," she replied, glancing up, "do you mean that man pretending to be an infamous rebel that just told you in all seriousness that he was who you'd been singing about - or said rebel in actuality?"

She gave a half-shrug and a corner of her mouth twitched up in ironic amusement. "And need you ask my business? I'm a mercenary. Judging by his presence here, and the fact that I'm following him, a logical conclusion one might come to is that I'm in his pay."

Leaning over, she plucked a delicate chord on Haiyya's harp, minor in contrast with the melody, a ballad in a major key. "Logic, however, does not always coincide with truth." How very true indeed. Eledhe Darkstar, you're become a rebel yourself. "One might turn the question on you. Bard, then? You must be fresh out of school." She grinned. "They must have taught somewhere 'tis risky to sing of a subject half your audience may be vehemently against. They might guess you sympathetic to the cause."

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"If fresh out of school means ten years, then yes, you guessed right." Haiyya grinned. "I've a quick ear for music, but slow conformity for times and politics. I go where I like and sing what I please, and if my audience doesn't like it, why, they needn't give me money.
"It's the lure of the unknown," she continued, adding her other hand to the harp, not really paying attention to the tune and launching into a melodious improvisation. "You can take folk to the edge of danger without even taking them out of their seats. Aye, they listen, whether they like it or no." Haiyya shifted her seat on the barstool, playing one-handed again while she took a few more sips from her goblet. "Truth is often stranger than fiction, no? And why, if you'll pardon me, should a simple mercenary be interested in this 'cause', as you term it? I can't imagine it's very lucrative." This time she met the woman's gaze squarely.

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<center>Nothing but the Rain</center>