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Donovan returns Shale's salute, waits for the others to leave, and then makes his way to the door.

On his way out of the room, Donovan couldn't help but notice the strangeness of it all. The sight of Robin, who had dealt her child to darkness to save her friends, mothering Eli, a boy whose depression was caused by his mother's death, struck a powerful chord in him. Seeing the two of them huddled there in the ruined room, clinging to each other in their shared grief, was somehow symbolic to him. That was the essence of Haven, a few tattered souls grasping at one another with destruction all around them.


Let them find comfort in each other, he thought. It is a far better thing for them than being alone. There was enough of lonliness in the world, enough of sorrow.

Quietly closing the door, he ventured one last glance at the woman and her adoped son. How many more times would Eli scream in despair at the death of his mother? How many more times would duty demand the blood of his friends? Donovan's eyes turned down the hallway to Shale and Ug as they made their way downstairs. No one was absolutely right here, and no one was absolutely wrong. Everyone was doing what they thought best for the protection of Haven.

Flashing Drake a salute and a knowing "as you were" nod, Donovan made his way back down the stairs and into the Phoenix Hall. He sat at his table behind a stack of notes, charts, maps, and reports and took a long drink from one of Lambic's best brews. He could feel the frustration and rage winding like a spring in his chest. Just when they were on the verge of bringing things together, darkness threatened to rip everything apart. Again they had rallied to fight back a coming apocalypse, and again they had been betrayed. Now the arcane work of wizards and dragons was poised to destroy the product of so much toil and sacrifice.

His hand tightened around the bottle as his mind went racing through the struggles they had faced in their short time in Haven. Wizards, beastmen, lizardmen, warlords, masters, armies of men and Ga'vin, false kings, wood wraiths, bleeding trees, evil druids, necromancers, fleshcrafters and their followers, ancient killers, tyrants from the north, spirits from the past, the random re-arrangement of the land, invincible worms, ant hordes, the erratic shifting of time, waves of undead, dark elf slavers, dwarven blood oaths, plague villages, vampires, dark fey, bloodletting farmers, oversized moles, animated statues, flesh golems of all shapes and sizes, and a world-ending prophecy that includes the machinations of at least three dragons and a being from the dawn of time.

Donovan took another long drink.

Oh, the Dragons were great and powerful beasts, ancient beyond reckoning, nearly perfect in their grace - yet they turned to him in their hour of need. How many would he lose this time? Brant was gone already. Valane, Ethos, August, Brikal, and Curufin were on assignments from which they might never return. Kabre was still unstable in his new body, Drake was wearing yet another skin, and just this moon he nearly lost Ian, Chargoth, and DarKarath.

The spring in his chest wound even tighter as the frustration mounted. Time and again they were pawns in the games of mysterious forces. Time and again fools with spellbooks incurred debts that only the blood of good men could repay. They ripped the world apart with their eldritch scheming, and it always fell to them to patch it up again.

All this, and still we fight amongst ourselves, he thought. First with the Orcs, then almost with the Gryffins, then Roland, and now Robin's deal with what may be Narnian poses to pit the future Duchess against the High Magus and a member of our Council. Oh, and with Corbyn absent, I'm calling the shots... again.

He swore the next person who accused him of being power hungry was going to end up missing a limb. Yet, this was a task he would wish upon no other. He knew things that would stop the hearts of common men, secrets that had no business being told. But he had to know them to know how to fight them. It was his burden to bear.

Setting the empty bottle down on his table, Donovan stood and walked out of the Hall. He passed out of the Inn and into the night air. Not so long ago he had let the enormity of it all overwhelm him and he had become something he must not become. Drawing Lightstorm, he fell into first of the sword forms. Steel blurring in the moon light, he let the smooth rhythm of his blade steal his thoughts away.

*A form slowly moves from it's concealment in the shadows into the pale light, tendrils of smoke escaping from the corners of it's mouth and it's nose, Atrum locks eyes with Donovan as Donovan whirls with sword at the ready, Donovan can plainly see the understanding and weary in those eyes, just as Atrum can plainly see the frustration in his. As Donovan returns to his forms Atrum takes one last long drag off of his rolled tobacco, flicks it off into the woods and joins Donovan in practicing the forms, letting his mind clear of all that has weighed on it as of late.*

No one ever pays attention to the guards.

It was basically the same here as it was back in Eldesta. You stood quietly, and held onto your weapon, listening to the machinations around as though it was a play. You listened with out hearing and watched with out seeing.

It had been a terrible struggle to come so far in so short a time. The seven of them that made it from Harrison's Pass, had numbered in the Twenty. He had not given Preceptor Donovan all of their names. It would have just weighed him down with more dead.

The Haven. It was their home now. Chargoth felt some remorse for having abandoned the Keep at Harrison's pass. But the world had changed. They needed him here. They needed more bodies.

Still. Demonic possession, necromancy and the art's of darkness were being used here in Haven. It would have to be stopped. In a group this small, the decisions of a single member throw the lives of others in jeopardy. A guard could not sleep on duty. There was too much at stake. It was more than political mumbo jumbo, the very survival of the Guard was at stake.

Still Chargoth was new here. He didn't yet know the players in the machinations. He couldn't pick the good out of the bad. So he did guard duty. He watched what was going on. He listen to the whisperings through the guild halls. He watched the groups file in and out of the wooden doors. He remained silent and still. His heavy, battered armor rattling in night. His Dwarven Spike-Axe at his side like and old friend.

He'd never met The Preceptor, or even Du Sinjin before he got here. He was just a lowly grunt, at the bottom of the ladder. But he had faith that they were everything they needed to be. The Phoenix Guard would survive. So Chargoth remained content to be on the bottom. For all of his complaining, the most important guard post in camp, was the rear guard.

Chargoth watched Preceptor Donovan Leave the hall. He walked as though he had the weight of the world on his shoulders. In all likelihood, He did. Time would tell.
No one ever pays attention to the guards.

*From the forest outside the Inn, Corbyn emerged and made his way towards the door. He paused to speak briefly with Donovan and Atrum, clasping each on the shoulder before moving inside. Once through the door, he made his way up the stairs to the room he and Robin shared. Pausing at the threshold, he entered and a few moments later, Eli stepped out. After a short time, Corbyn re-emerged.*

Eli, would you please go back inside and stay with her. She cannot be alone in this or any hour, until this is resolved.

Kidwynn and Drake, continue to guard the door. Let none pass unless I command it, and do not enter unless Robin or Eli call.

*Walking downstairs, Corbyn was met by Donovan who had retrieved Arthos from the Guild of Light hall. As the three of them entered the Phoenix Command office, Corbyn asked one of the guards to have Shale join them after his examination of Ug was concluded.*

*Content that Robin was asleep for the night Drake makes his way down the stairs and into the Phoenix Officers Room*

"I have a bone to pick with all of you."

*Drake looks at Donovan, Shale, Claude, Corbyn, and Arthos. He draws his sword and points it at them. An intense fire can be seen in his eyes, and he speaks very loud*

"All she did was save your lives, and you treat her like a criminal. It doesn't matter what she is, or has in her right now. For she is still Robin. And she needs our help and understanding more than anything right now. So just remember that when you call this a "mistake" that you should be dead right now."

*Drake is staring right at Arthos*

"She risked it all to save your asses."

*With his anger out Drake turns and makes his way to the door*

"This is what I meant by the fire Du Sinjin."

*Drake then slams the door closed and makes his way back up to her chambers. Guarding the door*

*After a few hours of rest and hearing her name plus the commotion downstairs, when Drake returns he finds Kidwynn standing guard at the door to Robin's room.*

*In a whisper*

I heard the Duke's request and am here.

Donovan looks up when Drake enters the room, expecting the decorum befitting an officer of the Guard. His face grows darker and darker as Drake's tirade continues, the leather of his gloves creaking under the force of his tightening grip.

As Drake slams the door, Donovan rises from his seat. Making his excuses to the men in the room, he opens the door and speaks in the voice of command.

"Captain Elderich! Front and center! NOW!"

*Kidwynn looks over at Drake upon hearing the shouting from Donovan and cringes. As she watches him she hopes her friend isn't in as much trouble as she thinks he now is in.*

Very sleepy in the middle of the night when Corbyn awakens him Eli half asleep follows him into the hall. He listens intently to Corbyn then nods and returns to sleep with his adopted mother.

Eli's real mother had died so long ago that he no longer could remember her. He thought she must have looked a lot like Robin, with flowing golden red hair and big blue eyes. She had been a healer, at least that is what he believed she must have been. But alas her name escaped him. She was the last one to die when the evil men came for him, he remembered them, he remembered finding his fathers books and fleeing into the night. Living in the wilds had made him tough, after she died, and when Robin took him in he slowly began to forget the past and relearn what real happiness was. And now he would get a little brother, he was sure he overheard someone saying Robin was going to have a son with Corbyn in only a few months, though he was quite sure he had seen no storks around! Someone he could look out for and teach, maybe he would have the spark and Eli could teach him the ways of magic. Eli had, had an older brother once, at least he thought he had, but that was so long ago, and he was quite young when he left to scout for the family and never returned. But that was long ago and bitter times, and tonight he was with his new mom, and everything was just fine with the world, except the walls were all burned. He may have to check up on Ug and see what spells he was casting around his mom. First thing in the morning… after all his wild thoughts he finally fell back into a deep sleep filled with dreams of someone smaller and younger than him with dark eyes who listened to everything he told him and was as skilled in the arts as himself. They were pleasant dreams.

*Drake turns to Kidwynn*

"Watch this door, let no one in unless the Duke says so."

*Drake then walks down the stairs and in front of Donovan. He salutes him and waits for his reply*

*Kidwynn salutes Drake and squeeks out.*

Aye, aye Capt'n no one shall get by me.

Watching from the table he had taken to occupying, Olan couldn't help but smile to himself at the chaos that was unfolding before him. Such heated debate over something so simple as the actions of one person. The moaning and complaining of "right" and "responsibility".

Olan could almost identify with Robin. She decided to make the sacrifice she felt was necessary, but.....to offer up your own unborn child to a demon? He could only sigh and feel sorry for the elf child, wondering how long before he was offered up as a sacrifice by his "mother".

*Olan sighs heavily, then drains the ale from his glass. He stands slowly to get another drink, sure that he would probably need it.*

Donovan returns Drake's salute with a sharp motion and gestures to the Phoenix Hall.

"With me, Captain."

(To be continued in the "Phoenix Guard Hall" thread.)