Emalia set out from Port Llast headed northward on the High Road. The road had suddenly become much less traveled and much more inclined than when she had started out. The more she headed upward, the colder it became, and it was welcome for her to pull out the warm cloak she had picked up in Port Llast. She had been walking for hours, noting certain movements within the trees which she could never quite decipher. As the trees came nearer to the road, what sounded like grunting whispers reached her ears – and forced her to pick up her pace. She had begun jogging when the first orc burst from the trees.
The beast was menacingly tall and bulged with unnatural muscle, all bent on procuring Emalia's items, and perhaps, Emalia herself. The thick hand latched onto the cloak, pulling it off even as it threatened to choke Emalia and send her sprawling backward.
"Get bag!" one of the orcs shouted to his companion. Dutifully, the second tromped after Emalia. Here, Emalia faced the choice. She had to do something, for there was no hope of her outrunning the orcs behind her. She was spun around by the force of her pack being pulled off of her shoulder, and watched as the fruits rolled down the road. Instantly, the orc was upon her with thick hands about her neck, full intent on killing her. Before he could cease her breathing, however, Emalia called out a spell, bringing down a ray of light so intense, the orc let go with an alacrity that belied his frame, and gripped his beady black eyes in howls of fury. The orc companion, upon hearing the cries, rushed Emalia with his club now brandished high above his head. Before he could bring it down to connect with her head, a second blinding ray of light hit him full on in the face, sending him into the same contortions as his ally. Quickly, Emalia scooped up what little fruit she could, stuffed it into her pack, and began racing up the road - hopeful that the two orcs behind her would need quite a long while to recover.
The day wore on with no further incident, if being freezing cold with hardly any food were to be considered non-incidental. Emalia trudged up the road, her light cloak pulled as tightly as could be managed about her. The encounter with the orcs had left her weakened physically, and it was in no way remedied by the fact that she had run almost to the point of collapse on a road uphill. She finally felt safe enough to seat herself on a rock, her breath coming out in the air as a vaporous trail, "Am I truly to die here?""That's up to you, of course. I wouldn't recommend going forward if you plan on living though. It gets worse and you've not the gear for it."
Fear shot through Emalia like a lightning arc and quickly she looked around. "I have no money..." She spun around, finally spotting a slender man dressed in a heavy brown cloak and loose wool clothes. Emalia fought to calm herself, trying with difficulty to pull on her experience as a Guardian to help. "Can I aid you?"
Again the stranger, who spoke in quiet, low tones, recommended for Emalia to turn back. "I can't. I can't go back. I have to go into these mountains." "Have to? You don't have to do anything. But even if you did, I'm saying you should go back to get supplies first.""I can't. I have people following me. They don't understand that it's my mission." The traveler followed her, and they both talked over matters of the Apprentice, the Jihad, her losing so many people she cared for, and the fact that the whole of this journey was being undertaken in the hopes that she would determine at last if this path was the correct one. She was meant to do something more than mill around Westbridge or the Caverns and-
The traveler, without a word, unhooked his staff from his back. The orcs were back, and this time, there were more. "Drop money and weapons and maybe live," the leader barked. Emalia's mouth dropped open as the traveler sprung into action. Never before had she occasion to see someone who moved with cat-like fluidity, nor the ability to handle a weapon as if it were an extension of his own body. Emalia did next to nothing, using her whip to fell one of the orcs, her spell to drop another, and she took off running, hopeful that the man would follow her. Farther up the road, she used the rest of her energy to kill yet another orc.
As soon as the charred body hit the ground, Emalia staggered over to a tree and collapsed. When she came to, the brown-cloaked man sat by her in silence. She felt more rested than she ever had since the start of her journey. They talked for a long while of Emalia's past, and why she was truly undertaking such a seemingly foolhardy mission. No matter how much talked, Emalia could see nothing beyond going farther north. With indifference, he tossed her his warm cloak. Emalia, strong in her conviction that she was well rested and able to continue, rose high into the air. In her sights, the City of Luskan. She had no idea of what lay within the city, and only gave thought of getting provisions. In the frigid altitude, she made her way through the air, well above any orcs that might give her trouble.
