Khalad crept along with the others, and though he was tall he had some stealth and did not make much noise. His left hand played with his swordhilt, and he knew he would not draw his heirloom when doing such an act; and again he cursed the fate that forced him to do this for the sake of survival.
He heard a few words of Jaheira and Snyd's conversation; not all of it, for they were clever enough to keep their voices down. But he could easily guess that they were not satisfied with their destination; and well, how could such brigands be interested in the beauty of Laurelindórenan and the Elves?
They approached the farmhouse and Khalad sighed. If things went as usual, Vlad and the other henchmen would smash in the door and kill those present, unless they had other, more evil plans with the women. Sometimes Khalad had tried to intervene, thinking of his own sister, but seldom had he succeeded.
He was in a dilemma; he did not wish to enter the house and see the ill deeds being done, but he knew Jaheira would probably also stay outside; so either choice gave him evil company. In the end, he decided on staying with the latter, though; at least she had been silent when they had walked alongside each other, and hopefully she would be again.
He only hoped Melost would enter the house as well; being alone with Jaheira and Melost would only bring problems, and Khalad feared he would not be able to solve them.
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Two beer or not two beer, that is the question; by Shakesbeer
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