The Dread Haunting of the Myrken Wood Mill

[Glenn]

By the time they reached the inn, it was obvious that the stickmen were no longer chasing them. Elliot knew the wood even when it was dark, at least around town, at least around the inn, and the light starting to peak through the trees helped matters. It didn't really matter where they ended up though, so long as it wasn't the mill again. It had been due to the tossing of the cloak that he was turned around in the first place, or at least that's what he was telling himself. They were out of danger and he was annoyed with Zilliah again. How had that been anything but a success. The damaged youth was all but put out of Elliot's head. That's what constantly rationalizing thievery did to a young man. it made him selfish and blind to the plight of others. Obviously, the child had been a slave to the stickmen and their master. He'd find a way to help him. That'd more than make up for things.

Now though, Zilliah didn't want any part to do with any of this and that grated. "We uncovered a magical plot! We did a big thing! I couldn't imagine that to have gone any better unless we took back some real evidence. Now I'll figure out what to do next," and as Elliot slipped the ring back on his finger, it was apparent he planned to do this alone. Still, polite was polite. "Thank you for your help, though, Zilliah. I just don't think you're suited for this sort of work. I'm sorry."

[Pantha]

“Is that what you call a success?” He is stopping and laughing now as he shares in Elliot's excitement. He might not be good at breaking and entering (and why would he be good at that when he could just pay someone to do it for him?), but he was good at running away. Delicate thing that he is, he has plenty of stamina to run far, far away. Thankfully, it wasn't needed. His laughter grows as Elliot pulls the thrown shirt off his face. “Plot? What plot? It looked as if he was trying to protect himself and his business to me. What is wrong with that? Be thankful he is not as diligent as some; the traps could have been far worse, you know.” Elliot had put the ring back on so he has decided to becoming a downer again. The boy insulted him and it made his nose wrinkle up a bit. Now that they were stationary, he begins to inspect his minor, annoying wounds. Picking out splinters from the cuts and scraps would be far more time consuming then just cleaning a stab wound or the like. Already his his fingers as picking at the marred fingertips. “Do not tell anyone I helped you.” He gives the boy a stern look and then turns to head off back towards the inn where he can lick his wounds.