In White (Open)

Kay smiled as she had all three younger folk with her, even the stubborn Zolf had come along. But that smile quickly faded when, from the top of the stairs, she heard the words and screaming that one way or another had a source of Carcaroth. Or rather Kerel. Kay was rather used to people who could pull a one-eighty personality wise, but she wasn't particularly fond of them. She didn't question her own judge of character, though did question Carcaroth's acting skills. She held by her belief that, at least earlier in the night, Carcaroth had been a good person, and she didn't perceive any falseness to that. And seeing how he was now, she didn't expect he was capable of playing pretend so convincingly.

He's an idiot, she groaned in her mind as she looked down he hallway that held the entrances to the rooms on that second floor. It was a mess. Belongings of both the guests and the inn itself scattered everywhere like a herd of buffalo had charged through. If there were any guests still around they were locked inside their rooms and weren't making any sounds. Kay would try lead the three with her towards the room she had rented, but would stop for a moment to look at the room that was across the way from hers.

There was a mattress and a box-spring that were halfway covering the door that opened inwards into the room. Her neighbor seemed to have tried to borrow the bed of another room to try to barricade their door, but had given up half way. The window in the room had its glass knocked clean off, making Kay conclude that the person or people that had been in the room made a jump for it to escape the mayhem that had occurred downstairs.

Kay reached over the mattress that got in her way to reach into the abandoned room and close the door. Though she was still more warm than she should have been, she didn't want everyone else freezing to death by letting all the heat escape out through the broken window. She then turned to pull out the key she had received and opened the door, inviting the group into her room. She would be the last to enter the room, mainly because she was now trying to drag the extra mattress and box-spring from the hall into her rented room. Though once inside she would lock the door behind her, for what little additional protection that would provide.

Her room was kept nice and clean, mostly untouched from how it had been made and set up before she rented it. Two double beds had been pushed together to make a slightly larger than queen sized bed. After dragging the third bed inside, and lifting and dropping its mattress on top of its box-spring, Kay went over the room's closet to pull out an extra set of sheets, blankets, and covers, throwing them onto the new bed.

A sharp iron dagger then appeared in her right hand. A small weapon like this was no threat for her to make. It didn't even produce any steam, and if it had made her body any hotter Kay hadn't noticed it. She went over to the makeshift queen bed and started pushing the two beds that it was made of apart, finely cutting the bedding in two while she did so. Putting he dagger in her pocket when she was done, she brushed her gloved hands together as if indicating to herself a job well done.

"There, three beds now, one for each of you. Though I don't know how much sleep we'll be able to get here. There's bound to be more guards coming. No way to bring guards faster than to kill a guard," Kay said to her three guests as she walked towards her window to look out into the night.

Then down in the snow, just below her window, she saw a stagecoach. One that was heavily reinforced for the winter. Kay made the bet that it could be kept warm inside this particular stagecoach just from body heat alone. She didn't see the horses for it, which it looked like there should have been four of them. Nonetheless, looking around for a barn or stable nearby, she spoke up to the young people with her.

"Anyone feel like looking for a new place to stay?" she asked with a smile.

Tarok's blood rose a little bit in temperature, hearing the man downstairs seem to hurt one of the guards badly, but no sign of that showed on his face. What he wanted to do was run back downstairs and throw some of his kunai into the mans arms, but that would mark him as a suspect as well, and he could not keep the 13 year old guise that he had been playing the entire night. He walked with Kay into the room and watched as she worked, his eyes missing nothing as she did.

The knife appearing out of no-where was something odd, but far less then everything that had happened that night. He decided not to question it, and just sat cross-legged on the floor, waiting for the beds.

Finally, when they were ready, Kay hadn't asked all their names yet, and already was wanting to switch shelter. "I don't care." He said simply, saying the least amount of words possible so as to not give his ruse away.

When Fate had caught her balance from suddenly being shoved out of the way, and turned around to face them again, she found Carcaroth was already slicing limbs off of the guards' bodies. She clenched her fists and gritted her teeth as she glared at him. There had been a lot of unnecessary bloodshed that night, and now it was starting to get to her a little more than before. Perhaps it was the fact she was tired and wanted to get some sleep, or she just didn't like seeing men who were trying to protect others get their arms and legs torn off of them. Even if their ways of doing it were a bit flawed.

Either way, she wanted it to end. And there were only two choices she could think of: to allow Carcaroth to have his way and attempt to make her own escape while he did, or to stop him. She didn't particularly like either of those choices. She had hoped that the other guards would come to their senses and back down, or preferably leave altogether. But they wouldn't. Persistent fools... you'll just die!

Hearing Carcaroth offer the two guards relief of their pain, through what was probably death, was what eventually provoked Fate. Her right hand reached out slightly to welcome her sword, which appeared with a light that was faintly noticeable within the lighting of the lounge. When she had a proper hold of it, she jumped in front of the two mangled guards, her sword pointed directly at Carcaroth. Her attention seemed scattered, paying as much attention to the guards' actions as she could, while also carefully watching for the man's next move.

The three guards left standing seemed confused, watching her as she pointed her sword at him, who she was earlier trying to defend?... But they took the opportunity to try to get their two injured comrades to safety. Two of the guards went to try and pull them away from danger, while their leader stayed.

Kerel's eyes narrowed as Fate stepped in between him and the mangled guards, pointing her sword at him while she did so. He could hear Carcaroth yelling in the back of his head, but it sounded muffled and distant - as though he was standing in another room at the other end of a long corridor. It was impossible to make out what he was saying, and though Kerel could imagine what it was - what the hell do you think you're doing, stop this right now, look what you've done, etc - he didn't really mind. To him, the idea of a muffled Carcaroth was actually a very good thing.

It was all thanks to the blade in his hand. Calaim was truly a double-edged sword. For every advantage it yielded, there was a drawback. Its magic-absorbing ability would occasionally destabilize the mind-link between the demon and the human, making it harder for them to communicate and switch control of the body. Kerel had observed that this happened to coincide with whenever Calaim was used for bloodshed, which was often the case when it was in Kerel's hands.

"That's not going to help them, girl," said Kerel with a glance at the guards that were dragged away. "Do you know how much blood they are losing? Your intervention isn't going to make a difference. Better that they die now than to suffer the pain a little longer and then die from blood loss."

He felt tempted to attack her, as she did have her sword pointed at him, but he also felt that he'd eventually have to listen to Carcaroth again some time in the future, and if Kerel killed this woman without provocation then he'd never hear the end of it from that too-nice-for-his-own-good sissy. Afterall, Fate hadn't moved to kill him yet.

"Well? Make your move, if you dare," challenged the demon. He was ready to answer any attack she might launch, and he almost hoped that she would attack him. Stopping his onslaught now just seemed a bit premature.

Fate was locked in place. Perhaps she had already figured that if she didn't attack, then neither would the demon. But she wasn't ready to just drop her guard just yet. It became an awkward stalemate where everyone just stared at each other, for what seemed to drag on for minutes.

"Ugh... wankers," groaned Kerel finally. "Fine, I'll stop n-"

The whole world flipped upside-down as he was then grabbed from behind by someone he hadn't noticed until then - someone huge, by the looks of it - and brutally shoved down into the ground. Calaim was torn out of his hands. And that was when Kerel really got pissed off. Why did they all want to take his goddamn sword?

"You shouldn't have done that," sneered the demon into the floor that he was beind held down against. With Calaim out of his hands, nothing stood in the way of his demonic powers coming to the surface. Blue, glowing runes started appearing all over his increasingly straining body, and his eyes changed from a light blue to a sharp red. His black hair also seemed to get a crimson shade to it.

"You really shouldn't have done that."

Tarok felt the power crackle from downstairs. He sighed, and looked at the door, entering his third internal debate of the night. He closed his eyes and layer back in a chair in the groom, pausing the tilted back up against the wall. It looked like he was resting again, but his mind was going miles a minute. He shook his head, already knowing how the debate would end, but still he measured the pros and cons. Pro: I get some well deserved rest. Con: People will lose their lives. They could die if I go down their, too. But it's less likely..... Damn.....

Tarok sat up, looking around the room. Kay seemed to still be looking out the window, wand the other two children were resting themselves. Tarok stood, and slipped through the still open door without a sound. There were no guests or guards in the hallway, and he couldn't be sure about the room, mostly because he didn't want to cast out his mind to see if there was. He stepped down the stairs, still silent, and took in the scene.

The man, who had gone through an extreme makeover since Tarok he last seen him, was in the middle of a group of guards, with a rather large one behind him. The big one was looking smug that he had been able to knock the sword out pf the man's hands, but lost the grin and went pasty white at the transformation. Tarok grabbed a kunai and a shuriken from his belt, and went invisible, throwing the shuriken from the staircase at the man, just to wound him in the leg, and moved before anyone could guess where it had come from. Tarok grabbed his dagger, and was now holding two knives. He ducked behind the bar, and turned off his invisibility, listening to everyone reactions.

Kerel felt a stinging pain in his leg as he struggled to get free from the huge man's arms. He looked down and saw a strange, star-like weapon of some sorts that had stuck to his thigh painfully. The edges seemed to be rather sharp.

He didn't know where it came from, nor did he care. This was just what he needed.

Wrestling one arm free, he grabbed the small weapon and lodged it deeply into the arm that was still holding him. The man yelled out in pain as Kerel dragged the weapon all the way from the man's forearm to his elbow, creating a long and nasty cut.

As Kerel spun around, he recognized the man as one of the people that Carcaroth had been speaking with earlier - Jorn.

"I told you, you shouldn't have done that," growled Kerel as he readied himself for another assault. But before he could proceed to carve up the rest of Jorn's huge body with the tiny star-like weapon in his hand, he was ambushed from a place he had not been expecting at all - his own mind.

The demon had forgotten entirely that with Calaim out of his hands, the link between his mind and Carcaroth had been slowly stabilizing again. Thus, Carcaroth was able to get back in control of his body. And even if Kerel used all of his willpower, the human still didn't budge. He maintained control with an iron-tight grip.

"You, guard," he said hoarsely to the one who'd remained. "Lock my hands up, would you?"

Tarok blinked once, then twice. He quietly sighed, as it seemed that his intervention had caused more harm than good. Though, with the power that had come from that man, He wasn't so sure. Perhaps he had stopped something worse from happening. But, hearing this outburst, a man that had just been willing to kill to get a SWORD back, asking to get locked up, it caused Tarok to think.

It has to be Schizophrenia. That is the only explanation. Either that, or....

He would rather not think about the alternative.

For the fifth time that night, Tarok entered an internal debate. Whether or not to help the man that was obviously sick was a trying question. He did not doubt his abilities the immobilize the man, it was the uncertainty of whether or not he would be thrown in jail. He also looked like a thirteen year old, so the guard might not even listen to him.

Tarok sighed again, deciding what he would do. He stood, put on his meekest face, and walked out from behind the bar, as if he was scared and uncertain. "Brother, has your.... sickness been acting up again?" He said to the man, who was probably VERY confused.

"Guard, would you please shackle him? It is not his fault, and the only reason he acted up was because you took his sword away. He is very.... possesive, and his sickness acts up when he loses something he loves. Please do not take him to jail. He will be fine by tomorrow, and I can pay whatever fine might be charged."

The guard looked afraid and uncertain. He was not sure what to do, but this child looked as though he could be trusted. "Alright, son." The guard said gruffly. He took out a pair of metal shackles, and clamped them on the father's wrists. "I will return in the morning for my shackles, so we can discuss the fine then." He tossed the child the keys, which Tarok fumbled with (Faked, of course.)

"Oh, thank you sir!" Tarok said, playing his part like an actor born for it. "Though, you may want to call a few more guards to clean up the mess, and take out the wounded and.... well.... the ones that aren't alive any more." Tarok walked over to the man, grabbed the shackles chains, and walked towards the stairs. "Let's go, Bro!" Tarok said, leading the stunned man up the steps.

Tarok stepped a little closer, still maintaining the face for the guard, who was watching them go. "Don't say anything to give this away." He said in a whisper, leading them into the hallway.

Fate watched the events unfold, the entire time being nothing short of dumfounded. Seeing someone literally transform right in front of her was definitely a first. A first she didn't want to have that night. The other odd thing was how the guard seemed to nearly excuse the man of his deeds.

While two of his men lay dying behind the bar, the culprit was now walking away in chains beside his... little brother?

She shook her head and touched her fingers to her forehead. Their icy touch felt almost like they were freezing her hot head. With a sigh, she backed away to a stool that stood in front of the bar and plopped herself down on it. It isn't exactly my business, anyways. She thought to herself, pulling her right leg over her left and resting her right elbow over her left arm, while her hand held her head.

I probably caught a bit of a cold because of that stupid stunt I pulled... As if a switch clicked in her head, her eyes opened widely and her hand hit the side of the stool, pushing her up off of it. Her attention was directed at the door almost immediately, where the ruffian had been caught and tied up. Though, he no longer seemed to be there. The rope that was used was left in his place. She rose an eyebrow, and let out a sigh. The man had probably managed an escape during all of the ruckus that was caused after their little "brawl".

"Miss," Started one of the guards as he approached Fate. "Would you mind giving a brief explanation of the events that took place here?"

She turned to face him and gave him a simple nod in agreement. Then crossed her arms and carefully explained everything to him, making sure not to bring suspicion to herself in the process.

As the two went over the events of that night, the other guards and the older man, despite his own rather painful looking wound, were working together to get the injured to a more warm place where they could tend to the wounds. Several inn workers, who had up until that point fled the scene, also scurried around to help them and get the lobby cleaned up.

When they were done, the guard seemed content with her report, and she let out a sigh of relief as she watched him leave the inn. At least for the night, she was off, and would have plenty of time to leave in the morning if it came down to it... Although, she definitely wanted to check out that ghost story before leaving the area. But for now she wanted rest, rest she would consider well deserved. All ready to change out of her bloody clothes and crawl into a nice, warm bed, she made her way up to the stairs and towards the rooms. She stopped only a few steps up, remembering one important part of her plan.

"...I don't have my key anymore."

Tarok heard the woman's comment from down the hall. "Don't worry about a key. There are several empty, open rooms down the hall." He said, every childlike tone absent from his voice. "You could stay with us, if you wanted. I would like to talk to you as well."

Tarok kept hold of the man's chains, and led him down the hall. He kicked open the door to an empty room, with three beds inside, two next to one wall, and the third next to another. Thankfully, the window in this room was not broken, which meant no draft.

"Sit." Tarok said simply, releasing the chain that was between the cuffs, and just waited for the tall man to respond, and also waiting to see if the woman would join them.

The kid had to be, what, 13 years old? Carcaroth could only watch with silent surprise as his new "brother" managed to convince the guard to forget about the murders of his two comrades (no mortal could survive the amount of blood loss sustained from the loss of a limb without some sort of miracle healing, and there were no healers present by the looks of things).

Carcaroth pondered over this odd situation for a few seconds, and arrived at the conclusion that the guard had to be pissing himself with fear over having to deal with a ruthless killer and so was all but pleased that someone else would take him off his hands. The kid seemed young, but not neccessarily defenseless. He had the appearance of a person who was prepared for danger.

Carcaroth carefully inspected the boy from a distance as he led on into the hallway. By the looks of it, this seemed to be the person who had thrown that star-like weapon at Kerel earlier. While Carcaroth had to admit that it would take a lot of guts for a boy like this to attack a rampaging, murderous lunatic like that, he dreaded the thought of what Kerel would have done if he had gotten his hands on this kid.

The room they'd gotten was pretty cramped, three beds and all, but thankfully the window was unbroken. Considering he was still missing his shirt, the low temperature had kinda started getting to Carcaroth (who was usually quite used to the cold).

"Sit," said the boy to Carcaroth, seemingly referring to one of the three beds. Carcaroth slowly took a seat on the closest one, keeping his gaze fixed at his "little brother".

"Would you mind putting that sword over there?" he asked, nodding at Calaim which the boy had brought. "Not close enough so I can reach it, but kinda close."

The boy raised an eyebrow, glancing at Calaim and then Carcaroth, before putting the sword against the wall by the door.

"Here?"

"Yeah, that's perfect."

Tarok's eyebrow had gone up from it's own volition. "Maybe I wasn't lying about the sword down there...." He said, talking partly to himself. "Don't make me regret what I did down there, okay? I am not even sure why I did it, but it has already happened. This entire situation has gotten out of hand."

Tarok sat down himself, on the bed across from the man. "I am about to ask you a lot of questions, because you interest me. I am not used to this, so don't blame me if it seems awkward. And one more thing...." He walked across the room to the man, and grabbed his hand, making Jim's release the shurican, and Tarok grabbed it, sticking it into the place on his belt. He sat back down to start asking.

"What is your name? Where did you learn to fight like that. And what caused the personality change down there? And if you try to lie to me, I will know."

Carcaroth scratched the back of his neck as he contemplated the numerous questions he had been asked.

"Carcaroth," he said eventually. "My name is Carcaroth. Carca for short."

That was the easiest question to answer.

"I learned to fight from various sources. I guess mostly it was my father, when I was a kid. From there I've been picking up bits and pieces of fighting styles here and there."

Now all that was left was the most difficult question to answer.

"I could tell you about what happened below... but only because you decided to get me out of that pickle. And if you ever divulge what I'm about to say to anyone else, it's you who will have to beware."

Carcaroth took a deep breath, thinking of how to best say what came next.

"It's true that you saw two very different personalities below," he began. "I am one, and the other... well, the other is someone else entirely. Not a figment of my imagination or anything like that, just... someone else."

Tarok's face told Carca that further explanation was needed.

"Some time ago, I was put into a tough spot. I was about to be killed, but someone offered me a way out. On one condition; that I act as host for their conscience."

Carcaroth sat and stared at his hands as he recalled those dark, traumatic moments where he was certain that he was about to die.

"It was a demon, by the name Kerel. I didn't want to die, so I agreed. I let him use my body. And he did use it. I could only watch through my own eyes as my body, out of my control, butchered everyone and everything around me without hesitation or discrimination."

There was a moment of silence. Carcaroth took another deep breath.

"Since then I have shared this body with Kerel. He was the other side you saw of me down below. And if he'd been allowed, he would have slaughtered just about everyone here."

After being sheperded into the room, Zolf moved to the corner furthest from everyone else and sat down, watching as the woman in red rearranged the beds.
"You can keep yours," he commented. He wasn't going to let them think he needed to be looked after - he didn't.

Eventually, bored, he shuffled along to the door and sat just outside with his back against the frame so that he could see what was happening downstairs.
"I'll...um...guard." He said, closing the door without waiting for any response. He had decided he disliked the red one, and the way she was trying to group him in with the younger ones, and take care of them all. He didn't like being under command, no matter how benevolent the commander was. He was easily as tall as her, and he felt fairly confident he could overpower her if needed...but not yet.
He yawned as he watched the fight taking place downstairs. He was tired, but this loooked like it could be too interesting to sleep though. He watched as the woman was knocked out of the way, and as the man had his sword taken, but his eyes widened slightly as the man...transformed. There was no other word for it, really. One minute he was ordinary, the next he was going off like a demonic firework.

"Get them!" he called, nearly being tripped over as the little boy ran out of the room and down the stairs. What did he think he was doing?
His amusement was brought to a close as the man who had been putting on a spectacular one-man impression of the northern lights seemed to surrender, allowing the guards to shackle his wrists. What an anti-climax...

But there was the crazy boy, emerging from behind the bar. He was his brother? Zolf blinked, confused.An end was put to his confusion as they came upstairs, however, as the boy seemed to be explaining what was going on to the man, who looked as puzzled as he felt. He slipped down the corridor after them, crouched outside the door, and listened intently to the man's explanation of who he was.

His mouth twitched as he finished. He brought his knees up to his chest and squashed the lower half of his face against them to stop it. It did sound a little far fetched...he knew to laugh probably wouldn't be a good idea, given what the man had been capable of downstairs, but what was probably a combination of his tiredness and the ridiculousness of the madman - Carcaroth's - story meant he couldn't help himself - his shoulders shook, and he couldn't supress the splutters as he started to laugh.

Tarok stood abruptly, after hearing the spluttering laugh, cursing himself. He had been careless, not paying attention to his sense of minds. As silently as he could, he moved to the door, and threw it open, hitting the young their in the head. Before Zolf, as Tarok found out with a little searching,could react, Tarok grabbed him by the cooler, threw him to th ground, and shut the door. As Zolf finally was figuring out what happened, Tarok boot his brown leather boot to his throught, pinning him beneath strength that someone as young as he looked shouldn't have. There was barely enough room for the young man to breath.

Tarok looked at Carca. "My apoligies for being so careless."

Fate rose an eyebrow after the boy offered her to accompany them, and watched as the two continued away from the stairs. Both of them were fairly strange. The boy who appeared young and innocent before was certainly hiding something, though she couldn't tell just what his intentions were. The healing abilities he had shown earlier that night, however, greatly interested her. On the other hand, Carcaroth seemed like someone she'd do good to avoid. Although, he had certainly been a good help during their fight...

She shook her head, at this point, it was definitely best to avoid them and any more trouble that this odd bunch might bring up. And with that decided, she carried her slow and tired self up the rest of the stairs to try and find herself a room, which apparently, were mostly vacant.

She paused when, over the dozen or so steps she had left to climb up, she saw the two boys fighting outside of the room. Though it seemed to be pretty one-sided... How? That boy was so much younger, and smaller. So much smaller. But hiding something. She was already thinking of going in and stopping them, but shook the thought off. It probably wasn't over anything very important, and the black haired boy had displayed earlier that night that he was capable of taking care of himself. But so did the other two that were now in that room with him.... How did he get thrown in so easily?

And now she stood in front of the closed door. Her hand reached out for the doorknob, until she realized something. It didn't matter to her. The earlier events in the night had been a mistake on her part, something that happened in the midst of her boredom or sudden interest. And disgust.

There was no reason those guards had to die. And yes, as much as she wanted to avoid that truth, there was no getting around that they were probably dead now. She wanted to know why, for what reason, what drove that man, Carcaroth, to do it? Why did he suddenly go so insane? Was he really sick?

But it wasn't entirely his doing. She caused it too. It was probably meant to be, as soon as she taunted those ruffians. And not all of them deserved it either, probably.

With a sigh, she dismissed those thoughts, and was twisting the doorknob and pushing the door open. Then she saw the younger boy, his foot atop the others neck. "That's not safe." Fate lectured as she moved forward to try and pull the boy away. "Kids should play nicer games." Though, the one on the floor didn't look entirely like a kid. At least, not his height.

Tarok looked at Fate, unsurprised, as she opened the door then tried to take him off of Zolf. He sighed, not saying anything, but not moving when she pulled. "It's his own fault for eavesdropping. And being an idiot for letting us know he was eavesdropping. Now, I will get off if he promises not to run off, or repeat anything he has heard in this room. There are ways I could remove his memory of this event, but they are rather violent and I don't like to do them."

Tarok looked down at Zolf. "Have you got that? And really, do not lie to me. I will know."

Carcaroth also heard the muffled sound of sudden laughter outside the door, and watched as Tarok rose to his feet, moved silently over to the door and in a matter of few, chaotic seconds had seized the eavesdropper and thrown them onto the floor of the room. Carcaroth recognized him, once again, as the person he had helped earlier.

They couldn't learn anything other than his name - Zolf - before they were interrupted a second time by another visitor. A woman with blue hair. Carcaroth had to search his mind a little before remembering that her name was Fate.

"Please," said Carcaroth to Tarok, who kept his boot on Zolf's person. "There's been enough violence for an evening."

Zolf lay on the floor, winded and not a little surprised at what this little boy was capable of, his hands clawing at his attacker's ankles as he gasped for breath. His anger grew as the boy began to defend his actions when the man and the woman both tried to tell him off, and then as he insulted him, until it was a writhing knot of white hot rage boiling away inside him.

I'll kill him when he lets me up, the arrogant little so-and-so, he seethed in his mind. But he managed a nod as the boy began to speak condescendingly to him, warning him of the 'consequences' if he did anything he didn't like. Who was he to give him orders like that, and to expect him to obey them? He rolled over as the boot came off his throat, coughing and spluttering into the floor before scrambling up to glare murderously at the people facing him. Especially that boy.

Now would not be the best time to kill him, he decided. Not while he was under the protection of the two adults, who would likely side with the smaller boy, though they seemed opposed to any further violence. It would be better to play along with them, to form some kind of alliance...then maybe he would have his chance.

"Fine." he growled through his teeth. "Fine. You've got yourself the word of a thief and a liar - I hope you're satisfied." It had probably not been the best idea to say this out loud, to sow seeds of distrust, but there was no way he could let this self-important little fool have the last word. Besides, the boy had told him not to lie, even if he didn't believe that the boy could see through him as he claimed to be able to, and the biggest lie he could tell was that he could be completely and utterly trusted.

And I wouldn't worry about anything I heard IN the room, he thought, I was outside the whole time. He had to work to resist the urge to smirk as he shuffled towards one of the beds in the room and flopped down onto it, lying curled up and facing outwards, so that he could see anyone trying to sneak up on him as well as being able to quickly draw his knife from its place on his leg. Just in case their trust slips in the night, he told himself.

"Don't know about you, but I'm going to sleep." he said gruffly.

Tarok shook his head, barely visible under his hood. "You do that." I looked towards the woman, Fate. "Are you content with the current arrangements? You are obviously welcome to stay. Take the bed, I will sleep on the floor." He went over to the wall, grabbing a blanket from his pack. Almost on an afterthought, Tarok reached under his cloak into his pocket, and threw the keys to the cuffs at Fate. "Unlock those shacklesfor him please." Tarok said as he lay down.

Fate fumbled around a bit to catch the keys that he threw at her. She simply nodded at the boy's request, and turned towards Carcaroth. When she approached him, her movements were slow and just a little cautious. She half knelt, and half bent down to unlock his shackles, and when she finished, she simply looked him in the eyes for a brief moment. He didn't look like a blood thirsty murderer, but then again, her intuition had proved to be wrong about these things before.

She stepped back and tossed the keys back to the boy, then spun on her heel to face the door. "If that's all, I'll be staying in another room for the night. Thank you, though." She finally said in response to his first question, then proceeded to leave the room.