A small caravan makes its way along the broken road through Xanashire, comprised of a regal lion by the name of Prince Shiahd bu-Ahlmarahat, and his heavily-armed feline retinue, along with supplies to help them through this cold, wounded land. It is deep winter now – Even though Stalwirland is not much further north than Half Valley, it is considerably higher in altitude, and is comparable to what sort of weather must be afflicting Nordika about now.

The regal Lion Khatta shivers. Rarely does it get this cold on Rephidim, and the carriage can only provide so much insulation. He hunkers down in his seat, drawing his false mane around him for warmth, giving a short glance out the window.

The retinue of Khattas and Katthas have served their Prince as if they were his own subjects – and there is no doubt that they would willingly lay down their lives for him … even though they hardly know him. They know even less than they suspect, of course.

The Khatta shakes his head as this thought crosses his mind, causing him to shiver for a reason not caused by the cold. Breathing some warm air onto his paws, he decides to call out to the driver. "How much further 'til we arrive?"

The tabby-tiger-striped feline driver leans down and says, "Can't say, your Highness! The road is getting steeper, and I'm not sure that the weather will hold. We may have to seek shelter along the way … or we might reach Falcon's Watch before nightfall!"

Prince Shiahd (a.k.a. Jynx) frowns. That's not what he wanted to hear at all. He pours some brandy from a bottle into a small goblet, and sips it. The Khatta really isn't much of a drinker, but strangely the spirit seems to help with the cold. A small rumble emits from Jynx's stomach – almost time to eat.

Or was that noise a rumble after all? There's another noise off to the side – something very faint that the Khatta happens to pick up. Apparently the others notice nothing … perhaps Jynx is merely imagining things, or else his many adventures (in the sewers of Rephidim, in the wilds of the Savans, and plenty of other places) have made him a little more wary of such things.

Curious, but still hungry nonetheless, Jynx scoots over, perking his ears at the seeming source of the noise.

There's a movement in the bushes … in the OTHER direction. Some scared forest creatures scatter, drawing the attention of the bulk of the party … However, Jynx notices some movement in the OTHER direction … and spies a glint of light off of something shiny … and sharp.

Jynx draws both his daggers, which were hidden safely away in his robes. A sneak attack? "My followers, to the carriage on all sides!" he yells, "We're surrounded!" The Khatta gets in a defensive crouch, ready to spring from the carriage if necessary.

There is a moment of confusion – oh, so long, it seems! – as the retinue scrambles to obey their master's orders. There response is timely, it turns out, as a few arrows materialize, springing forth from the side of the carriage and very close to the seat of the driver of the supply wagon. Several ragged-looking men bearing crude spears, pitchforks, hoes and other implements charge from the underbrush, met by the Prince's armed contingent.

The Lion Khatta's tail thrashes about wildly – Should he leave the carriage and join them; would the Prince do that? He desperately wants to, but he has to keep his act up. "Drivers, close in together!"

The drivers move to obey the Prince's orders, circling the wagons closer together to form a defense against the attacking brigands. The attackers are of mixed species but predominantly feline – making the uniforms of the defenders the clearest way to tell the two parties apart. But there are other differences … the attackers vary greatly in age, and have a very lean and hungry look about them. Their clothes are tattered, their extremities frost-bitten, and they fight with wild, unfocused abandon.

Not being able to take it any more, the Khatta jumps from the carriage to join his men. Daggers in both hands, he crouches down for a fight, but is taken somewhat aback by the sight of his attackers. They might as well be fighting skeletons! This reminds him of why he is really on this quest. "Try not to kill them, men – Take them alive!"

A distant raptor's cry echoes over the mountains, curiously detached from the here and now. A silhouette in the clouds above reveals the position of a medium-sized bird, which takes up a circling position high overhead. A few moments later, it's joined by a few more shapes like it.

Jynx freezes, and stares upwards. Sky Knights, here? Or are they something else? Either way, it seems unlikely that they are on the Khatta's side. Backing away from the fray, he attempts to keep his eyes on the sky and his ears on the fight, crouched in a springing position. What could this be? "Be alert, my followers!"

Some of the retinue seem to be fairly surprised by their Prince's command … but by all appearances, they do their best to obey. The fighting is savage, and the combat is not without blood-letting … but the attackers, while filled with an initial burst of desperation, seem unable to continue to press the attack against better armed (and healthier) defenders.

The shapes in the air look too small to be sentient, and they don't appear concerned about the fighting, other than wheeling over it.

"They aren't what we came for! Rout them and let us be on our way!" yells out the Khatta, seemingly aware that he should give an explanation. Giving as convincing a lion roar he can, Jynx charges one of the attackers, ready to wound him if possible, but hoping that it will back down first.

The old feline, staggering from a shallow wound, turns and gapes at Jynx, his eyes hollow, his pitchfork coming up in a weak defense. He looks for all the world as if he's facing his death and knows it.

Jynx gives an involuntary gulp; he hadn't bothered to look at who he was charging. The Khatta doesn't want to hurt the old cat, but he can't make himself look weak before his retinue either. Splitting the difference, he reverses his daggers so that the handles jut out insted of the blades, and – dodging the pitchfork – attempts to tackle the aged feline. Maybe he can take him prisoner and get some answers.

A couple of well-placed blows knock the wind out of the elder feline, and he crumples to the ground. Elsewhere, the battle is turning into a rout, as the brigands – obviously overwhelmed – flee the scene. A couple of bodies remain still on the ground, the snow turning pink around them. It would seem the fight has been quickly engaged and just as quickly finished.

Panting, the tawny Khatta watches the rest of the battle for a few seconds, then turns his attention to his prisoner. Hefting the old cat over his shoulder, he carries him back to the caravan as fast as he can. "Back to the carriages my men; form a perimeter!"

The warriors retreat to their carriages … and as Jynx passes the fallen, he can see that only the attackers suffered any casualties … though many of his followers display wounds.

"Round up the wounded," calls out the Lion Khatta, "And patch yourselves up; while we're stopped we may as well break for food." After giving his commands, Jynx looks down at the old cat. "Are you all right, old one?"

The old man looks up at the leonine … and then wheezes, his body shaking again and again. After a moment, and as tears frost on the old cat's eyes, it is evident that the defeated brigand is crying.

Two bodies are dragged into view … by their bedraggled forms, it is evident that the two fallen are of the side of the attackers, not of the Prince's retinue.

Jynx gives his retainer a cold, expressionless look, "Patch them up and give them some rations, then send them on their way." Although he knows that he is more than likely sending them to their deaths, the false Prince has no choice. He's already compromised his disguise more than he is comfortable with. Turning his attention away from the retainer, the lion Khatta looks back to the old man, his heart aching. Wiping the tears out of the ancient feline's eyes, he then speaks with a soft, yet authoritarian tone of voice, "Why did you attack us, old man?" While waiting for an answer, Jynx pulls out some of his own food, offering it to his prisoner.

The old feline looks as if he is fighting an inner battle to resist … but when faced with the food offering, he hungrily tears into it. A quick count reveals that Jynx's fingers are all still intact and accounted for.

The tawny Khatta snatches his hand back quickly, resisting the urge to smile in thanks that the old man took his offer. "Again, why did you attack? We have done nothing to you."

The old man stammers and chatters, fumbling with hands that are missing a couple of fingers to frostbite. "H-h-h-have t-t-to… N-n-nnoo HOPE!" he wails, and starts convulsing again, as he turns away from his benefactor in shame.

Jynx's heart plummets from watching the old man in his wretched state. Disguise or no, he can't just let the old feline suffer like this. He stands up and calls to the closest retainer, "You – put this man in a carriage and give him something warm to drink, and some food. I have reason to believe that he may come in handy on our journey." He reaffirms this command with his sternest, Dominic-esque look. "As for the rest of you, pick up your gear and prepare to move out again; time is running thin!"

There are many puzzled looks exchanged, but again, the Prince's retinue proves to be loyal to his every command and odd whim. Within moments, the caravan is hastily heading out – no doubt in part simply to be clear in case the attackers regain their bravado and return to the scene.

The birds wheeling overhead fly lower. One of them even lands, nosing its beak around where the spots of blood had fallen on the snow.

The tawny Khatta re-enters his carraige, shuddering at the grisly sight of the birds landing on the battlefield. "Driver, how much did this set us back? And what do you know of our attackers?"

"Peasants, I would gather," the driver ventures. "The frost hit early this year. Killed most of the harvest … and that wasn't much to start with. But no matter – Just think! Once we get the Artifact, and return the whole of Sinai to its feral roots, they'll be far better suited to the wild. It's only by the taint of human blood that they can't just hunt for themselves and forage like any wild beast would." There's something horribly CHEERY about the driver's tone of voice as he comes to this conclusion.

Jynx grimaces, cheery and vile, which is the same tone the Khatta uses in reply, "You are right, my friend, which is why we must make haste! Order the caravan to double its pace; we've probably been set back much and I'll be skinned before I'll let that vermin Skreek beat us!" He settles back in his seat and sighs, returning his daggers to their sheaths. If the Skreek does get there first, all is lost.

The shrill cries of the carrion birds keen faintly in the distance as the caravan moves away. Black and white winged shapes descend on something too far away to be seen, and none of them come back up.

The journey is unpleasant, continuing further uphill, but not going much further – only half an hour, truth be told – until another encounter is made. The caravan rolls into the remnants of a village.

As the caravan comes through across the ill-tended road, mothers gather up their cubs and rush inside – doors and shutters are slammed shut … and many of the women let out cries of lament. Wailing fills the air.

The Prince looks out his window to the old tattered town, a look of worry on his face. How can these people live in such fear and squallor for so long? It's all Jynx can do to continue hiding his emotions as he watches the inhabitants scurry back to their homes. "Driver, where are we?"

"Some minor village in some fiefdom that doesn't exist anymore," the driver says with a shrug. By the colors predominant in the garments … they seem to match those of the peasants who attacked the caravan … and there are no able-bodied men to be seen here.

"Give the prisoners some more rations and let them off here, then let's be on our way," commands the false Prince, "We can't waste any more time with stops. We're already lacking as it is."

An old mixed-breed canine leaning on a staff watches the caravan pass, after it drops off the captured peasants – who are soon smothered by what must be their families. Though snow covers the rooftops, the village is still filthy and riddled with the signs of decay. The old dog looks up from this dismal scene, his eyes fixed firmly upon Jynx, his expression unreadable, though it seems somehow different than the peasants around him – and far different from the old man who was among those attacking the caravan.

Jynx watches the families of the captured embrace the prisoners, and he stifles a smile of happiness as they are returned to their loved ones. Then the Khatta notices the old canine, and is taken aback by the stare. He locks gazes with the dog, then comes back to reality. This one certainly doesn't belong here, and Jynx's feline curiosity gets the better of him. Motioning for one of his retainers to come nearer, the Khatta gives him a command, "Detain that old mutt with the staff and bring him to me; something is strange about him."

"At once, your highness!" the retainer responds, with a bow, as the caravan rolls just to the point of exiting the village. In short order, the old Gallah is brought, hurried along by a couple of feline retainers, not showing any signs of an attempt to struggle.

The leonine Khatta opens the door to his carriage and motions for the old canine to enter, making sure his face is stone cold.

With some stumbling, minus his walking stick (which might be used as a weapon, after all), the old mutt clambers into the carriage, and sits down opposite the Prince.

"Leave us for now. I would like some time alone with my guest," Jynx commands his guards. He then turns to the old Gallah, staring at him for some time before speaking. Why in Dagh's name did I just do this? I need to hurry up and get out of this costume; it's starting to go to my head… Searching for the words to say, the Khatta finally speaks, "You're not like the others in that village. Who are you?"

"'Old Man Gruff' is what I'm called by most," the old mutt wuffs, showing a few missing teeth, "but Guffa Tanner, if you want my proper name. I'm just an old man who has seen many things, at the end of my years, and unwilling to act like a wild beast in order to prolong them any further." He puts an accent on "wild beast" that makes it sound suspiciously like a pointed comment.

"Why then were you staring at me the way you were?" asks the Khatta. "It's not wise to glare at nobility, you know. You're lucky my men didn't dispense with you for it."

"You'd merely save nature the trouble," the old mutt says. "And isn't that the order of things? The strong and fit kill the old and useless. Such a lovely thing, isn't it? Wouldn't it be just lovely to be a wild beast my age, fighting the younger pups for a few scraps? Simply marvelous," the mutt says with a shake of his head.

"I can't say as it would be," replies the false Prince, "Where I come from youths are taught to respect their elders, but this still does not explain what interest you found in me." The Khatta waits for an answer, hoping he isn't wasting his time.

The mutt looks up at the Prince, squinting his eyes a bit … "An odd answer. You're one of those hunters, aren't you? One of those seeking the Lady in the Tower?"

Jynx nods, "That I am. How is it that you know of our quest? I wasn't aware that it was common knowledge." The Khatta starts to get suspicious. "And even if I am, what concern is it to you?"

The mutt says, "Another of your group came through here, asking questions and telling tales, back before the frost." The mutt coughs. "You won't get far. The Lady in the Tower doesn't take kindly to visitors. And if she doesn't stop you, the curse of Calderas surely will." He gestures to the land about him. "It will kill you just as surely as it has the land."

The tawny Prince frowns, "My men and I are quite capable of overcoming this, 'curse', as you call it. I've faced worse before." He leans back and crosses his arms in a regal manner. "And as for the Lady, I have business with her whether she takes kindly to me or not. I can see that my time has been wasted. You may leave and return to your village now; my men will help you out of the carriage."

The mutt nods. "Very well, then. Good day, and happy hunting, and may you get some sense into your head and leave this forsaken land before you succumb to its fate." With that, the mutt leaves, roughly escorted out of the carriage.

The Khatta shivers, as much as he was acting his part, one might think that he had all the confidence in the world, but he doesn't. The Gallah's words plant themselves in the back of Jynx's mind, and he mulls them over as he watches the old dog leave. With another shudder and a renewed sense of haste, he calls out to the driver once more, "How good is our time?"

"Not much further," answers the driver, and with a "YAH!" he urges the beasts on, pulling the carriage away from the pathetic village.

However, the beasts nearly run down a peasant woman who is standing in the snow, holding two children. "Master! Master, I beseech you, please!"

The cat grumbles a bit – these random holdups are starting to frustrate him. "Bring that woman and her children to me, so I can find out what she wants," he orders one of his guards, "and be quick about it!"

The woman and her children are ushered over to the fuming Prince. The lady Khatta throws herself to the ground, not looking up a the Prince. "M'lord, I have two children and nothing to feed them! But the girl is pretty to look at, and in a few years, she will be a fine maidservant for you … and the boy will grow up to have a strong back. Two fine servants, for only a few morsels of food?"

Jynx's heart feels as though it were rending itself in two. 'Oh sure, let's go have a few laughs around Xanashire,' he told himself, 'it'll be fun!' He had no idea that he would be faced with such decisions as this. His food supply is already depleted more than he counted on, and he is beginning to fear that his men may start to be suspicious, but, by the Star, he can't keep turning people away! Using every bit of strength he has, he fights back any show of emotion. After a long pause of just staring at the woman, he nods. "Very well, I will grant your wish. I could use some more servants, since my men have been wounded." He steps aside, motioning for the three to enter his caravan. "Guard, bring us some rations for the lady and her children, but not too excessive."

The guard looks to the Prince. "As you wish, your highness … " He looks dubiously at the children. "But they are too young to be of any help to us. They'll only be more mouths to feed, and we are surely headed into more danger. What if they are spies, agents of … " He stops before mentioning any names.

"I am well aware of that risk, thank you, but I believe I gave you an order, did I not?" The Prince glares at the guard. "And I will find something for them to do. And for that matter, if I hear anymore backtalk from you, they shall get your rations – Do I make myself clear? If all else fails, we can exchange them for goods later."

The guard gulps and bows. "Yes, sir! I meant nothing by – " and then he heads off hurriedly to carry out his master's wishes. The three ragged felines enter the Prince's carriage, looking about as if afraid to touch anything.

As if giving a warning to reinforce his wishes to all his retainers, Jynx gives a good long glare around the caravan, before going back in and slamming the door shut. Once inside he sits back down in his spot, and motions for the three bedraggled cats to do the same. "Please, be my guest."

The young kittens sit down, and the mother – looking reluctant – at last does so, after the kittens have done so. The girl kitten is indeed very cute, and will be very pretty when she grows up. She's about Eve's age, probably, though she doesn't share Eve's diminutive stature. The brother is younger, perhaps by a year or two.

All three felines have orangish fur, the two kittens having "tiger stripes", though the daughter's stripes are starting to fade.

Jynx looks the trio over, almost grimacing at their state of health. Reaching into one of his carry-on duffels, he takes out a stick of sugar candy, breaking it in two and offering it to the cubs. "So," he asks the mother, "what brings you to this place? Hardly suitable for kittens."

The mother blinks, then stammers an answer, "W-we … live here. My … husband fell ill and died last year." She looks down. The kittens look only briefly reluctant, but quickly snatch up the candy, chowing it down, rather than savoring any of the sweetness.

The tawny Khatta snatches his hand back, counting his fingers for the second time today. He allows a small chuckle at their antics, but quickly sobers back up. "My sympathies, I assure you." He looks back up, "I will allow you to travel with us, but first be warned: our mission is a dangerous one, and you will have to pull some weight." He once again gives an authoritarian aire, but mainly just in case there are eavesdroppers. "Also know that you are expendable at any time. I cannot risk the safety of my followers."

"Yes, my lord," the mother says, bowing her head.

Jynx blinks at the bow; he still can't get over how people are doing that to him. Maybe this nobility schtick isn't so bad after all, he ponders. Snapping himself out of the thought, he softens his tone a bit. "For now, though, rest and eat. You will need your strength." After giving the woman a gentle pat, he sticks his head back out the window, "How are we now, Driver?"

The journey takes some time longer … but at last they reach another decimated village, this one with a few peasants still living in it, perhaps having done somewhat better in making stores for the winter, but definitely not the sort of place to stop to replenish supplies. Higher up can be seen a peak of one of the smaller mountains in the range – and perched atop it is a ruinous castle, once with four towers, but now with only one standing to its full height. "Falcon's Watch," the driver says, referring to both the town – and the castle which once housed King Xante.

Jynx nods, "Then we make camp here! Assign nightwatch rosters, and everybody pitch for the night." The Khatta turns to the woman and her cubs, "You are welcome to sleep in here tonight; there will plenty of room for all of you. And I can assure you that you will be quite safe." The Khatta pulls out several blankets from an overhead compartment, and hands them to the mother. He then grabs a small auxillary tent and makes his way out. After getting the tent pitched, Jynx crawls inside, with his disguise makeup close, and closes the flap. He then curls up tightly, feline style, since he is devoid of bedding material. The Khatta doesn't mind though, since the small family needs it more. As he drifts off to sleep, thoughts of his own family members flash through Jynx's mind – especially those of the one up on the mountain.