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...t down beside her with a respectful bow of his head. He looked up at her with sincere concern in his eyes, although one couldn’t be sure if the concern was just for her, or for the message she bore.

 She reached out and rested her hand on his shoulder, clearly exposing the mark on her wrist. Her other hand pulled something out of her pouch and everyone began to jockey for a glimpse. As she handed it to him, his hesitation was obvious. She squeezed his shoulder and he finally accepted the object. It was a dark stone. Turning it over in his hand, a clearly etched rune blazed up at him and the tavern was alive with gasps and whispers.

 “So,” he breathed, slowly standing to his feet, visibly shaken, “he…he stirs.” The Fleet stared straight ahead with a steely expression as she simply nodded.

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