After two weeks of travel, Sly reached the southern settlement of the varishu. Fortress Karchrak had been the first settlement the varishu had made when they had come to the north. The fortress was still heavily populated even though all the clans had moved on. All of the clans still sent soldiers to man it. It was the one example of the varishu working together in true harmony.

 A great stone fortress with two surrounding walls sat in the center of a small vale. Between the two walls was a moat, but not of water; it was a raging pit of lava. According to history, the varishu built the fortress on a portal to the Eternal Domain, which led to a demi-plane of fire. The city within had stone buildings to protect from the oppressive heat. 

Small stations of the city had begun to pop up and spread out. A few taverns and marketplaces appeared from the first wall. It provided a place for people to conduct business without crossing into the city proper. Sly found himself on one of these outskirts, where there was a small inn called "The Considerate Groom." While the inn itself was small and plain, Sly chose it because of the exquisite stable beside it. There was also a large gated meadow where an abundance of horses roamed. It would be here if Sly were to find the slavers who could cross the desert. Crossing the desert would take the best horses available. 

Two days passed, and Sly spent time in the inn trying to gather any information. A few different caravans came through the inn. One of the guards spoke of a fellow, a nathar, who was a member of a slaver troupe. According to the guard, the slavers were due in a day, coming from the north. He was unsure if they would lodge at the inn as they had in the past. 

Anxiousness rose in the rogue as he tried to pass the time away. He constantly felt like the Morglith clan was hunting him. Even this far south, they could still send a hunter after him. Until he was across the desert, Sly would have to be cautious and aware. That hyper-awareness was what saved Sly. He had gone for a walk along the nearby market. Meandering among the stalls, he looked for necessary supplies for his journey. 

As Sly haggled with a dealer of water skins, he looked up across the bazaar. He saw a small band of Varishu moving through the shifting cloth stalls. On the leather jerkins of the warriors, he could make out the symbol of the Morglith Clan. A whole band of warriors had been sent to track him down! 

Part of Sly was honored that he warranted a whole band of warriors chasing him. Yet, this also meant he was in danger. If one hunter had been dispatched against him, then Sly may have been able to handle them. A squad of five warriors would be too much for him. 

Cutting the negotiation short, Sly began to trail the group as they weaved through the market. It was clear that they were heading in the direction of his inn. They must be inquiring about all of the accommodations in the outer districts. Stys mind began to consider his options. Fleeing was possible, but that would mean he may miss the chance to meet the slavers. Staying meant that he would have to deal with the warriors. Daunting as that was, he could find a way to defeat them if he was smart. He could not continue running; the slavers were his last option.

 Only one varishu went into the tavern; Sly assumed the leader. The other four began to fan out down the dirt street. They kept each other in sight, ensuring that if their leader flushed out Sly, they could capture him. It was a good plan if Sly had been in the inn. That could work to his advantage if Sly could time it just right.

One of the guards stood at the wooden fence of the pasture, eyes peeled on the back of the inn. Sly worked through the flowing crowd as he carefully watched the other warriors. One up the street alternated his watchful sight on the other guards. Most people kept an internal clock, causing them to fall into predictable patterns. The guard down the street alternated in the way he looked every minute. That would give Sly the chance he needed if he could strike fatally. 

Silently, Sly got behind the unsuspecting fighter. Sly's trusted dagger flashed, catching the sun's reflection. The varishu spotted the glare, but it was too late. Sharpened every day, the dagger sliced through the man's throat effortlessly. Almost in the same movement, Sly pushed him over the top railing of the fence. With a softened thud, the lifeless body toppled into a pile of hay. Sly soon followed, hiding himself as well.

 After a moment, a yell went up into the air; the guard had noticed the missing fellow. He would no doubt soon be coming to investigate. The other guards would not be far behind. Hopefully, Sly could get rid of one more before he was overwhelmed. Running footsteps were easy for Sly's elven ears to hear. 

A spell's incantations came to his lips as he jumped out from the hay. The varishu warrior had a pair of shortswords and was ready for an attack. There was no preparing against the magic that Sly directed at him. It was a suble spell, an outside observer would see nothing: If the target did not have enough will power; they would see nothing.

 A small smile came to Sly as he watched the horror unfold on the varishu's face. The warrior began to swing his sword wildly, unable to see Sly as he was struck blind. For a moment, Sly considered having a little fun with the struggling warrior. Peering behind, he saw the other two guards rushing towards him. There was no time, so he slipped under the slashing blades, cutting at the tendons of the man, causing him to stumble to the dirt. The other two guards were close; and this time they were coming together. Sly knew better than to think he could overpower two.

 Jumping over the fence, Sly began to run himself. He knew they spotted him, so there was no reason to hide. The streets were crowded, and he could only hope that he would lose them in the chaos. Moving quickly, Sly kept glancing behind him to watch his pursuers. Buildings became denser as he reached the great iron doors of the first wall. The streets connected to the city's main road, and Sly knew he could evade them there. 

As he drew closer to the road, the rogue saw the leader of the warriors had gotten ahead of him. Sly looked around him, hoping to see an avenue of escape. There was an alley beside a butcher shop and candle store. Turning to his left, he dashed down the side street. The alley went down several streets, leading up to the First Wall. Sly tried to think of the best way to escape this situation. Climbing along the rooftops was an option, but he would be easily spotted. As the rogue considered the options, the two warriors entered the alley. Their leader was not with them. Maybe he had gone around hoping to cut Sly off again.

 "Surrender, Sly Telmein, and we will not harm you until you get back to Faziir," the leader's voice came from behind Sly. It was becoming uncomfortable how easy it was for people to get in his blind spot. Spinning around, Sly's dagger came up for an upward slash. When he saw the varishu hunter, his muscles went taunt, and he could not move. The man smiled wickedly as he pointed a rod of black metal at Sly. The tip of the arcane implement glowed a dark blue as the energy enveloped it. "Well, boys, he didn't surrender, so we get to have some for before bringing him back to Lord Seledin."

An explosion of pain erupted into Slys' back as an iron cudgel hit him. "Just make sure he is alive."