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[Eldan D`Ardan]

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Minoc....

The town was as prepared as would ever be for the dark forces that marched upon it. This however seemed to be not enough, for several of the Warden's allies had fallen before the main group had reached the eastern bridge. They came swiftly on their mounts. Their hearts and souls bent on one purpose...conquest.

As they rode over the bridge he knew the fight was lost before it really started. Their sudden charge left his Militia and their allies utterly confused and shaken. The fighting went into full swing, Eldan shooting who he could, but they were too many, and too strong for his ill equipped and ill trained group.

A dark clad figure raced towards him, lining up a swing. The Warden attempted to turn and flee. But a searing pain from a swing caused him to black out completely...

The Warden of the North awoke then, the taste of his own blood in his mouth. He sat atop his mount, Tempest. Who walked along the road...

Where am I...

His keen eyes took in the landscape. The mountains of the north were not in view. It was warm. How far south had his loyal horse taken him? As he tried to right himself in the saddle he grimaced as the stiffness set in, followed by the searing pain of a large slash across his back. "Thank you my friend.." Eldan patted Tempests neck assuringly.

Hope was waning in his heart. He hoped the others were as fortunate. His horse was smart enough to get him away from danger. The Warden stopped then, to drink and eat a meager meal. Barely able to stand, he was forced to fetch a makeshift staff to help him walk.

His mind wandered then, as he sipped on a waterskin. Had Minoc fallen? Their attempts at pillaging and oppressing would be null. He forced himself to smile a bit.

Thank the virtues we got everyone out.
The Dark Order's hopes of reaping the resources of Minoc would be short lived, looking to the north, he saw a tall pillar of smoke and dust rising from the mountain mines of Minoc. The smuggling of the explosion kegs must have been sucessful, for he doubted they would burn what the wished to occupy.

It was mid day, judging by the position of the sun. He must be close to Skarabrae by now.

I must meet with the others, they knew where to regroup, should we be defeated...

Tempest came then, nuzzling his shoulder and kneeling to let the wounded elf Ranger an easier time of getting settled in the saddle.
After a few moments he was in full gallop, every stride bringing him more and more pain. That mattered not. The pain would cease soon, when someone could tend to his wounds properly.

The Warden rode to Skarabrae, to their newly founded headquarters to see how badly they had been hurt...

[Tay Thormear]

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"Detect all of the explosions and get rid of them." Tarothin ordered.

Vaen has just informed him that the mines had been covered with explosives and that they couldn't just waltz in. They'd jepordize potential trading and resources.

It had taken some time, but the Order was confident that they had found all of the explosions. A pile of them were stack to the side. The army of the Dark Order was still hard at work disabling the barricade and rebuilding their own fortifications.

"Send in this Citizen." Beowulf suggested. Sitting atop his mount he booted a man forward.

A man with long grey hair fell forward. His body old and worn. He had been mining his entire life, it was quite obvious. All the citizens of Minoc had fled or faught. This one was left behind.

"Please, I don't know if it's safe..." the man begged.

"The explosions have been taken out, it's fine. Get in!" Beowulf commanded.

The old man shrugged and walk forward. He made it part way into the mines. He held up a hand and turned around to face the Order.

"Looks good!" He yelled over.

A grin and sigh of relief came across Vaen and the others. It had left just as quickly. The mines erupted into flames. There had been traps, one's they had obviously missed.

The old man ran from the mines, covered in flames. His screams echoed off the mountain walls. He fell forwards, his horrid screaming continued. The Order merely watched as the mans frantic rolling came to a stop.

Some of the Order cursed at the sight of watching the mines collasp and burn. Resources had been lost, potential profit had been burned. Tarothin would not be happy.

"Looks like it wasn't empty." Beowulf muttered.