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Aestivalis nodded. "I am fine, Lady." he said as he finished off the soup. He stood up quickly. "Let me take care of them, Lady. It is the least I can do to repay you for your hospitality."

Aestivalis easily hauled in enough water to start washing the dishes, putting more water on the fire to wash them with hot water as well. He worked quickly and efficently. He was used to military style discipline, and he was going to maintain it.

He may have been Lord Taravel's servant but that had ended now. He may only be Aestivalis but he still had his discipline. Being lax would take that away, and then Aestivalis would be some random commoner.

And Aestivalis knew that he wasn't. He wouldn't let himself lower to that. He was the son of his deceased father but that was alright. His father was a lord, and he was the son of one. He would uphold his discipline.

He scubbed quickly and efficently.

Aesitvalis looked around for things to clean and didn't disturb her belongings. It was when it was full on dark that he decided to check up on her with a gentle knock on her door.

Aestivalis opened the door slightly, asking in a concerned and hurried voice. "Lady Manna, are you alright?"

"Very well, Lady Manna." Aestivalis said, "Though its been several hours since you left to take a bath... Just so you know." Aestivalis closed the door and retreated to his own quarters, where the quiet rasp of him sharpening a sword could be heard. Along with quiet pinging of a small hammer.

Aestivalis was doing little repairs to his armor but the more he tried, the worse it got. He simply did not have the tools to restore it to its former glory.

Leaning back in the chair, he sighed, staring at the Taravel Empire logo on the breast plate above the heart.

"'Night" he said absently before he started to look for any more dents he could concievably repair. The pinging went on for another half hour before he himself called it a night.

Lying in the bed, he stared at the "Dark" ceiling. To his eyes, they were well lit. Tossing and turning, he tried to get comfortable.

He was in a warm bed, with a good meal in his stomach. So why couldn't he sleep. Sighing, his thoughts drifted to his host and the more he thought about it... the more he realized there was a lot more to her. Oh well, wasn't his buisness.

Or was it?

Getting up, he descended downstairs to and went out to the well to get water. Something didn't feel right in the air. It was... too heavy. Too expectant. Retreating inside quickly, he bounded up the stairs to hurriedly put on his armor.

A screaming sense of "NOT RIGHT" permeated through him.

Aestivalis growled "Something isn't right in the air. Can't you feel it?" he muttered as he finished putting on his full plate armor. Snapping the last of it together, he hurried out of the room with the two sword belts jingling along with the chain of the full plate.

"I wonder if those bandits who I made friends with before I met you have come to take their price for their fallen comrades." he muttered as he passed by her. "Find a safe place that you can stay at with more then one escape route." he said quickly.

After bounding down the stairs, he strode over to the front door and dropped the bar to reinforce it. He then strode to the back door and quickly left it to wait for the newcomers to show up.

Years of honing his danger sense by living in constant fear of assassination taught him to listen to his gut instinct. And his gut instinct said enemies were near.

He could hear their whisper soft steps in twilight that was his vision. He stood next to the Well.

"If you are out there, show yourselves like honorable men and women. IF not, then I will hunt you down." He declared to the darkness.

Aestivalis counted the number of raiders.

Fourteen. Those were long odds, even for someone like him. He may have supernatural strength and reflexes but that didn't mean he was that fast. Drawing the b*****d sword at his waist, he sighed.

These were bad odds. He would have to lead them away from here.

"So, you're the one who killed Jorgesson, eh?" their leader called. A man who had a bearskin cloak and two axes at his side.

Aestivalis nodded once and assumed a combat stance. "Well, bring it." the half demon growled and waved them forward.


****

Aestivalis panted, one left. The Bearserker who seethed with rage and roared very much like his bearskinrugforacloak. Aestivalis panted and charged with a wordless yell of challange and entered combat with the Bearserker.

The man was too skilled with his axes, Aestivalis thought as the tired and wounded half demon came under assault, ducking and weaving through axe swings, he tried to get under the Bearserker's guard, and whatever he managed to get under it, it was a single scratch here, or a cut there.

It was the final time where Aestivalis ducked under his opponent's guard only to be bear hugged. The man was fantastically strong, and was all too content with squeezing the life out of Aestivalis.