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[Davaran Skyfire]

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Davaran stepped into his chambers, frowning slightly at the objects the Orc's had pushed over in their hurry to drag him to Umbra, or more correctly, through a Moongate to Skara then Umbra. Passing through the heavy metal doors of the vault, he knocked a small amount of dust from the lid of a trunk and pulled it open. The spare uniform's regalia glinted slightly in the dull torch light, after a few moments the leather replaced the hastily purchased outfit from the gypsy camp within the lands of Ilshen.

Taking a moment to gather the rest of his belongings, Davaran sighed slightly at the realization that Darrien Church was in possession of his prized sash, he chuckled allowed, allowing his thoughts to penetrate the silence of the room.

"A lesson in Humility compliments of the Lich Lord, I'll have to thank him."

Speaking brought small stings of pain to the Sage, a reminder of the cruelty shown to him by the High Necromancer, while the lack of a stick up his ass would be a constant testament to the kindness a stranger sharing an enemy can bestow. A dowry that would not soon be forgotten.

Making for The Castle Blackguard, Dav noticed a peculiar message scrawled into the dirt and made more clear with small bee's wax.