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[Eldan D`Ardan]

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There was still some stiffness in the Ranger's body, even after a few days of bed rest. Therian had been doting on him as if Eldan were a lost son that was wounded. The old man knew the ways of the healers it seemed. For some of what he had done had quickened the elf's recovery considerably. In fact, he wasn't sure if he would have survived at all if the old Mage had not found him unconscious at the steps of their newly built keep.

Eldan looked over his shoulder then, naked to his waist. The slash was still plainly visible, it had closed though and was no longer causing the enormous amounts of pain it did. It was almost 12 inches in length, running from the top of his left shoulderblade to the middle of his waist. Today he would take his steps out into the wilderness again. Feeling somewhat healed, both inside and out.

The Magistrate was gone, as he had been handling the diplomatic affairs of the Militia since Eldan had been resting.

He could still hear the hoofbeats of his enemies riding down upon them. They came from the east, as it had been thought they might, but their eyes were so trained on one possible approach to Minoc.

The Warden said to himself then, "We won't make that mistake again." He began dressing himself then, pulling on what armor he had that was still useable and fitting it a little looser than before, to allow him painless movement.

The newly constructed Mazewood Keep was quite a sight. The compound father north was hastily built. This fortification however had been in the works for some time. No wood protected this place, only hard stone. He stood atop the left tower of the keep, looking out over the forests of Skarabrae.

Eldan had sat too long in one place already. It was time to start figuring out the next move...there was scouting to do. He needed to get updated from his people. And he needed to send out dispatches to some of those he had not spoken with while he recouperated.