“Wait, lord Audark,” Syn called after him as he started off again. She had little choice but to trust him; the massive forest had seemed like a good place to escape to at the time, but now that she was here she found herself lost in the vast woodland… and he had just saved her life. “I’m Syntorri Mistrivvin,” she began with a deep sigh as he turned back to face her, finding her kneeling to scoop up a black cat that had crept cautiously from behind a nearby tree, “and this is Nykademous. I owe you both my thanks and an apology. I appreciate your offer of aid, but I can’t go back to Everlund and I don’t know where to find food and shelter. I fled here to avoid an arranged marriage to a son of house Ealoeth. My house has fallen on hard times since the Retreat. Few of us chose to return from Evermeet, and when we did we found the assets we left here claimed by the Ealoeths, who largely remained behind. The only thing of real value my family still has is our moonblade, but only a worthy heir of Mistrivvin blood can claim it, as I did upon my father’s passing. For all their wealth and power, an active moonblade is the one thing the Ealoeths’ covet most. Their-own fell dormant centuries ago when they couldn’t produce a worthy heir to claim it. When I inherited ours the elders of both houses arranged the marriage so that my heir would bare the Ealoeth name but Mistrivvin blood. House Mistrivvin would be returned most of what was lost… house Ealoeth would gain the prestige of having an active moonblade… but I would be sold like a prized cow. Not to mention that the moonblade would likely reject my heir because of the deception and go dormant unless there’s another worthy Mistrivvin to claim it upon my death.” Torryn shook his head as she finished her tale; never more sure that his mother had made the right decision when she forsook the so-called civilized lands for the sanctuary of the forest. Then he addressed her in a more understanding tone; “I’m no lord… just a common huntsman… and you don’t own me an apology… or thanks. I’d been hunting those gnolls already... you just took care of half of them and their wolves for me. As for my offer of aid, you have Miir to thank for that,” he motioned to his bow as he continued. “She has a sense for those of good heart. I doubt that either house Mistrivvin or Ealoeth, no matter how wealthy they are, will find you if you stay in the forest,” he offered as a measure of comfort, “but stay clear of both Olostin’s and Noanar’s Holds… too many there hire themselves out to guide hunting parties from beyond the forest. Taking gold to hunt you down wouldn’t be much of a stretch for them. Your best bet for a place to settle is Reitheillaethor, a wood elven village on the banks of the Heartblood to the south, near the Dire Wood. But it’s a nearly a week’s trek… and we’d better get away from here before the rest of those gnolls’ pack come looking for them!” Nodding her acceptance as she sheathed her sword and returned Nykademous to her pack, she followed his lead as he started off toward the south. She found her-self strangely willing to trust the enigmatic huntsman; after all he was a handsome rogue and despite his rejection of the title, there was something distinctly noble about him; an honorable spirit. Since it was going to be a long journey, she decided to try and lighten the mood, so she jested with a capricious smile; “Is hunting gnolls a common pass-time here?” “It is common for me,” Torryn replied with a hint of a sly smile, recognizing the playful tone in her voice, as he glanced back at her. “But it’s not a sport for the faint of heart. When you’re hunting beasts that prefer you for dinner the hunter can easily become the hunted!” “You don’t say,” she teased as she sauntered passed, feeling his eyes linger on her swaying hips.