Sable Grail, Ebren’s Sabbath, the silver fox as he was commonly known. He was slim with well toned features. His face was sharp and handsome, with faint scars on either cheek. He had a Cross tattoo under his right eye, a mark of his trade, and carried with him a silver cross, bound in chain. His white cloak was haphazardly strewn over his shoulders as he lead his caravan through the dense windstorm atop the rocky Aldera plains. Sable’s hair, short on the sides but long on the top, waved freely in the winds as he shielded himself with his cloak. Under his cloak was a leather tunic and a black shirt, he also wore rough leather riding trousers with silver blades and traps strewn about his chest and belt. His blue eyes pierced through the wind with his glare as he braved the gale. Then suddenly his ears caught the sound of boots scuffling

“Halt!” he yelled in his commanding, strong voiced. His small caravan stopped as he listened through the wind. He drew a single cross shaped throwing knife and threw it. It curved in the gale and pierced a hiding beastman in the back. Then, six beast kin scouts emerged from their hiding spots in the rocks with weapons drawn. Sable drew his cross and willed it into the shape of a katana, slicing through his attackers effortlessly. He finished off the last attacker with a well aimed throwing knife. He snickered for a moment. “All clear” he said. If this was the best that the beasts could do they’d have to try harder. His blade returned to the form of a cross as he pressed on through the wind storm.

After roughly three hours the storm subsided, and Sable rounded up his men to asses their supplies. “We lose anything?” Sable asked

“No sir, everyone accounted for”

“And our ‘Cargo’?” he asked as a female Elven broke the line. She unveiled her hood, revealing dark pink hair and long, soft, Elven ears. Her eyes held such a presence that they demanded respect without any trace of aggression.

“I’m fine Sable” she spoke

“Good to hear that High Priestess” he grinned as he pulled out a map “We meet up with the Elven military here, in Cybal, then we’ll join the battle on the frontlines” he said pointing to their destination on the map “then our troop will split allowing a small squad to escort you safely to Haven madame”

“The front lines?” one of Sable’s men gulped

“Nothing heroic ever happens behind frontlines after all, have faith my friends, you are experts of your trade, theses attackers are but another trace of darkness we must chase from this world. Hold to your faith and I will not fail you” he said reassuring his men

“Ser Sable” she said with some tentativeness “You may have forgotten but I must make it to Cascade for my Pilgrimage to be complete”

“Madame High Priestess, with all due respect I believe your life is of greater value than this pilgrimage” he said with a sympathetic nod “I am a religious man, I understand your plight but pilgrimage can wait, your well being  may not”

“If the dawn ushers me towards certain death I will follow all the same, you will not sway me Silver Fox” she said with a slight pout

“Of course not…” he sighed “Full steam ahead then lads! The war waits for no one!”