Two nights passed, a raven croaked it's dismal song outside of the Willowshade Estate, Lord Thorn Willowshade, sat at his desk, head in his hands as his thoughts flew on blackened wings to his fallen companion, her body hanging in the markets for him to find and to the last words they had shared... Those of anger and failings and business arrangements. All of it seemed rather small by comparison now, he wished it had all happened differently, that he had guarded her better as a friend in his business should.
Outside the guards stood at the ready, their unease plain upon their faces, even the dwarves seemed shaken in their own way, boasting to the others of their many triumphs, as if that would somehow make them feel better. If the lord's right hand had been taken, what was stopping their unseen, but not unknown, enemy from taking them as well.
Meanwhile, Captain Athlang Altashir crouched low watching the comings and goings of a camp deep within the Chetwood, men wearing plain gear and unmarked outfits walked about, their eyes scanning the woods where he and his men hid. It was clear to him by now that the same Lord Celmorthir they had been waiting on the last month or so, had something to do with these men and, by extension, the shadowy figure who still evaded their eyes and ears, likely due to the head of that division being gone... He would mourn her later he had decided when she was found. All he could do now was try to avenge her as his lord had commanded.
No clues other than the shaky connection of the men in the woods had been found as of yet, the allies of Lord Thorn seemingly only just hearing the news and searching out the crime scene, likely due to his quick removal of the body for his own investigation, and peace of mind. One could only hope this was solved before more fell before the knife.
