[Himaran]

Abarzadan, Inzillmi, and Thoronmir crouched among the tombs, waiting for Azarmanô return. All were worried; how could one man, even a great warrior, sneak in and out of a guard camp unscathed, all the while purloining four uniforms and remaining unseen. Given the group's previous experiences with the King's men, the whole plan definitely leaned toward the side of foolishness, if not pure madness. Yet go Azarmanô did, for good or for ill, and the others could only wait for one of two things: his appearance, or the passage of enough time to rule out the possibility of him succeeding (and surviving).

It was early morning at the small campsite, and all three were hungry. They ate a quick cold breakfast; no fires could be lit this close to the city, especially when the members of the company had yet to disguise themselves. Afterwards they repacked the food, and tried to find something productive to do. In reality all they did was toy with various objects and worry about Azarmanô and his mission, but each managed to put on a good show of being busy.

Abarzadan's heart leapt when he heard branches snapping in the distance. Motioning to the others, he readied his now very over-polished axe and crept forward to see who the intruder might be. He then relaxed and lowered his weapon as the familiar face of the captain became visible over the rise. "Over here!" he yelled, and all three hurried to meet their friend, very much the hero returning with the sun.