"EN - Nar BEYULA, beyula........En - nar beyula..En - Nar beyula....Bi-smillah i-rahman i-r raheem!"

Occ - translation - "the fire burns, burns.... the fire burns, in the name of Aten be merciful and compassionate"

Asif's head then again droops once again onto his chest.

Asif 90% delirious with the pain of his wounds, struggles to focus his eyes upon his surroundings. His left eye half open sights the tall foreigner with who he spoke prior to all the carnage. A man akin to him, lost in a foreign land. For the benfit of his obvious concern, a weak smile crosses the lips of Asif. A smile forged only from his utmost will and determination.

Now, looking down upon the eastern gate perhaps as much as a mile away, you see that there is some activity there. The sharp-eyed among you notes the flash of red as several horsemen emerge from the gate and begin heading down the main road at a rapid pace. Matteo comments that the red denotes the Bishop's guards most likely, and recommends that you not be around for them to run into. Fortunately, the area around the trail is littered with stands of trees and bush. However, you all observe that the many footsteps and bits of blood leading back to the clearing will mark you out rather easily if anyone is looking. The sun is slowly heading down it's western arc, but you are some hours yet away from evening and it's concealing darkness.

Rhune looks up and notices the red riders. "We had better try to make for those trees over there. I am not interested in meeting up with them now." She slowly turns with Marika and begins to make her way as quickly as possible to the nearest stand of trees. Once there she gets well back from the edge and sits the injuired woman down gently. She tries to put as much brush and leaves around them as possible. She then pulls her cloak to hide her silver hair and sits down to wait. She draws her sword and keeps in under her cloak so that the sun will not shine off it. She notices the rather stark trail of blood that they have all left but there is nothing they can do about that. She says a silent prayer to Erevanus to aid them and let the guards be in such a hurry that they do not notice.

Matteo nodded and headed towards the trees. "Is anyone here skilled in disguising tracks? We're leaving quite a trail behind us now." Matteo made a show of pantomiming covering tracks for the large foreigner in hopes that he might be able to help.

"Let's approach the trees on a tangent, as if we might be walking past," suggests Marika, pointing toward a small gap in the underbrush just before the land drops into a low hollow. "Once those riders are out of sight, anyone who can still walk can go out and lay down some false tracks leading onward."

Still half-supported by Rhune, Marika stumbles the last few yards deeper into the stand of trees. "Thank you, Rhune," she sighs gratefully as she sinks to the ground, her injured leg extended out straight before her. As her more mobile companions work to camouflage this makeshift hiding place, Marika examines the still-comatose Azif. From her satchel she takes a small clay pot, its lid sealed shut with wax. As she breaks the seal, a pungent, almost nauseating smell wafts through the air. She applies the odorous ointment to the worst of Azif's burns, then wraps them loosely in cloth bandages. "I'm worried for him if he doesn't regain consciousness soon," she says. "He'll need to drink, to replace the fluids he's lost. Are you experienced in treating burns, Urak?"

Once Matteo had Sam set in the trees he checked the Halfling's pulse and then began looking over his own injuries. The injury to his foot was minor, but the bolt on his thigh was not. Matteo pulled out his stiletto and placed the hilt in his mouth to bite down on. Then, taking a deep breath, he grasped the bolt firmly and pulled it from his thigh muscle. Doing his best to not scream, Matteo composed a brief prayer to his god and watched as the wound closed quickly, leaving a tender scar but no bleeding.

Matteo's spell does just that, but barely. The wound is still very sore and he is still quite weak. Testing the leg, he is stable enough to walk or even to fight, as are Urak-gor and Rhune, but not one of them feels they could take a sword stroke without falling. Between the three of you, you have no confidence that you could take on even one of the horsemen. Asif and Sam are still in varying states of consciousness and unable to even walk. Kenishiro can walk, but little more, as the burns have left him weak as a kitten. Marika is relatively healthy, but crippled, and cannot walk without support.

Matteo replaced his stiletto in his sheath and looked about him to see what more he could do to keep the small group hidden, testing his leg as he did so.

Looking down the path, you all see the riders split up. One continues down the path. Another forks at a larger and finer path that leads to the magnificent estate on the hill, riding quickly. The other four space themselves out about fifty yards apart from each other and stake out observation posts, able to see each other and both paths with ease. In your current state, it is very unlikely that you could get past them without one of more of them seeing you. The one continuing down the path rides fairly quickly up past the point where you have made a poor attempt at disguising your tracks. However, this fellow is obviously no tracker, as he rides right by and up into the clearing. The one riding toward the estate has now dismounted at the palatial front door and passed the marble columns out in front. He disappears from sight.