Queen of the Flames

High Hrothgar

Rowen Moonwalker & Drizzt Do'urden-Rains Hand (Tirdas)

Nearly a week had passed since the attack on Whiterun. Rowen and Drizzt were instructed by Jarl Balgruuf to go to Falkreath, a city that housed the Greybeards at the top of a mountain. They were told it was there that their questions would be answered.

The two had built a strong friendship over the short amount of time they'd traveled together, and felt as if they had been friends for years rather than a mere five days. Drizzt had estimated they were about 1,000 paces from their destination, based on the map of Skyrim he'd fount in a library when he first arrived on the land.

Currently, they were walking under the boughs of shade giving trees next to a backwater road. The sun was beginning it's nightly journey beyond the horizon.
Drizzts head jerked up, violet eyes squinted against the light as they scanned the area. "Rowen, do you hear something?"

Rowen strained her ears, knowing the drows hearing exceeded hers, though she could hear the faint sound of someone struggling from not to far off. So she nodded, slowly removing the bow she'd gotten from Balgruuf away its sheath on her back.

Drizzt pulled his cowl low over his face, taking off in the direction of the cries. Rowen followed suite, long dark hair blowing out behind her as she leaped into  the underbrush, and arrow now notched in her weapon.

The pair of travelers burst through the foliage onto the road. The scene unfolding before him all to common in these parts. A group of ill equipped humans merchants was under siege of a group of bandits.

Drizzt ran into the fray, scimitars leading the way. Rowen took a place further back, firing arrows at the criminals. In just a few moments, the small battle was over. Most of the brigands had run off, and those who hadn't laid on the ground with their life force already crossing the path.

The dark elf lifted his head, the thrill of battle slowly leaving his violet hued eyes. He turned to address the merchants, but instead of thanks, a blade was pressed to his throat. Drizzt sighed at the realization: his hood had slipped from his head during the fight. Slowly, he sheathed his weapons and raised his hands. This situation was something he'd become used to all to quickly.

Rowen, however, was not as accustomed to a hero being held at sword point Drizzt was. She knocked the blade away from her friends neck with the flat of her dagger and held it to the portly merchant instead. "Have you no integrity? He just saved you from your ultimate demise and this is how you thank him? By holding your cold steel to his neck?"

The merchants partner sneered "Back away from the drow, woman. He's ours. That is, of course, unless you want to do the honors yourself?"

"Enough" Drizzt stepped away from his would-be attackers "I shall be talking my leave now" he twirled around, his cloak fluttering behind him.

The man pointed a crossbow at Drizzts back. Before Rowen to cold even yell her companions name, he turned and knocked the arrow away with the flat of Isingdeath. He didn't move for a moment, staring down the merchants as if daring them to do something else before going to leave again.

Rowen spat at the merchants feet "Disgraceful bastards. We should have let the thieves take you"
She raced after her distraught associate under the canopy of leafy limbs.

~~~

Rowen huffed air from her lungs when she caught up to Drizzt, he moved fast when he so desired. The drow sat gloomily under the branches of a willow tree with his knees pulled to his chest.