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. B'rak stood up, his eyes now accustomed to the lack of
light, and rubbed his head. The buzzing was still there, but at a
level barely noticeable. The nightmare was all but forgotten now;
the feeling of unease was not. B'rak flexed his wings in thought
and then suddenly departed the lodge.
He made his way quietly past the sleeping elves in the other
room and stepped outside. The sun was not yet up. The captain
hissed to himself. He turned to one of the two guards at the
entrance and kicked him. The figure cursed and clutched its leg.
B'rak tittered a quiet but direct order-along with the
consequences of slow obedience. The warrior quickly stood at
attention.
B'rak breathed into his face. "Seek out the trackers and have
them report to me. Now!"
The soldier scurried away. B'rak switched to the remaining
guard, who now stood poised and ready for battle. The draconian
commander moved so that he stood eye-to-eye with the other.
"Where is the Black Robe? Have you seen him or were you
asleep all night?"
"He is with the stricken one, captain-S'sira."
"Where would that be?"
The voice floated through the waning night. "There is no need
to look for me, captain. I am here."
B'rak whirled. Even in the darkness, he could make out the
burning eyes of Vergrim. The magic-user was buried deep within
the black cloak which seemed almost an extension of his own
form. The mage looked grim.
"It is odd that you should come seeking me, captain
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