The life of a commander was incredibly busy. Although he had already been familiar with the constant push and go of the army, Talen hadn't been prepared for this position and all that it entailed. He barely felt he had room to breathe anymore, let alone a moment to close his eyes. It was one he held with a ferocity in his hands however. Exhaustion and pressure had been constants in his life ever since he was a boy. This was something he could handle, and even if it were to become too much (and it already had, mind you), he need only remind himself of the great individual who had held this title before him. An elf as great as the former commander was all he could aspire towards now. He knew he would never truly be able to add up to him and his achievements, but his motivation was as good as any. Talen was not the best there was, but he'd be damned if he didn't put his everything into this newly acquired role. After all, others had elected him the new commander. He could not let them down.

Yet, as was the case with most any other being, occasional breaks were required. Not just wanted, but desperately needed. The new commander had informed his attendants and higher-ups that he was to take leave for a short time. A few days, perhaps, and he expected himself to be back, and nobody seemed to question his motives. It was likely they could see the sadness that still lingered in his eyes, and the dark circles beneath that emphasized it to a point. Talen left in a rush as soon as he was able, leaving his finer threads behind in lieu of the loose garments that decorated his frame now. Plain clothing allowed greater ease throughout the masses, until he was free in the quieter surroundings of the great forest. He did not wish to be recognized today, not while he was out hoping to find peace, wherever it may be. It was bound to be a difficult venture and he was not surprised by the journey he had to make in order to find an inkling of mental serenity.

The quest took him north, far out of the source of his childhood comforts. His horse minded not the seemingly aimless wandering her rider encouraged. He kept the reins loose and his posture lax, and together they roamed without much to snap at their heels. That is, until Talen had brought them so far that they were coming upon the familiar difficult landscape that preceded the Springs. He sat straighter in his seat, blinking the gathered languor from his eyes. Maybe here he would find a moment's rest. A true rest, where he could lay back in numbing relaxation and let his mind drift for a good while. An eagerness began to swell in his chest--was that a thread of hope?--and he tapped the mare's flanks with his heels. She artfully maneuvered the terrain, seeming to sense the lifted spirits of Talen and mirroring them in her own movements. He didn't doubt that she could.

A desperate whinny of torment halted the pair right in their tracks. The mare startled a little, her hooves skittering the rocks they traversed. "Easy," Talen said, voice low and muscles taut with caution. Whatever excitement he'd been feeling for a day's contentment had blown away like ashes in the wind. Really, he didn't know why he felt mildly disappointed about this. It was just his luck to run into trouble where he last wanted to find it. Letting out a huff of air, the elven commander slid down from his horse, patting her neck and pushing her off a ways towards a small grouping of trees. He would be able to scope out the situation much more easily on his own than with a weighty creature shying at every little thing. Alright, he wasn't giving the mare her due credit. She was an exceptional mount and actually handled things quite well. He mostly just didn't want to run the risk of her also letting out shrieks of suffering. Who knew what he was walking into.

Prepared for the worst, Talen hustled closer to the source of the noises, beginning to hear voices amidst the sounds of the scenery. He crouched behind a rather sparse and sad looking bush, wishing he'd brought more than the dagger on his hip. If it was a pack of wolves he would not be of much help, but a cock of his head honed him further on the voices. None sounded panicked. Hostile was more like it, however muted they were. Well, not a textbook pack of wolves then, but still just as dangerous. The pale-haired elf sighed, looking down at his knees for a moment before rolling his eyes and setting his shoulders. He couldn't just leave without checking to see if someone was truly in danger. That would go against his heart's morals and would leave him in a worse mood than the one he'd already been sporting. Decision made, he breathed a sharp, "Sard!" and pushed himself back up, eying the perimeter for his targets as he began to pace closer.

Another horrible screech pierced the air, some ways beyond where the voices were located. He would reach them before he reached the horse, and that saddened him a great deal. Men who targeted innocent creatures were pathetic and miserable. He would not feel remorse for putting them in their place, should the need arise. A glower had started to darken his face without his knowing, his palm poised on the hilt of his dagger, ready to pull it at any given second. His features shifted dramatically when he caught the tail-end of one of the men's exclamations. A whore? They were attacking a whore? Now unsure of how to feel about the situation (mostly because it was a mixture of absurd and ridiculous), Talen more slowly approached the area, ducking his head a little as he finally came upon the springs, and with them, the problem-causing individuals. He could just catch the hint of dark curls in one of the pools of water. Must be the whore, there.

"Have we a problem, gentlemen?" he called, discreetly moving his hand away from his waist and allowing his shirt to drape over the dagger. For now, he would come off as a non-threatening traveler caught up in the most undesirable of situations. He needed to get his bearings first and size up just what it was he was dealing with.

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He could tell that his presence had startled the lot. A small smirk tried to pluck at the corners of his mouth, but he stamped it down with a firm boot, unwilling to allow his guise to slip. Rather, he wore the face of a concerned citizen, eyebrows furrowed and hands held loose at his sides. Immediately the glint of the man's blade caught his attention, but as far as he could see, there were no other immediate threats, other than their fists. Talen took a couple steps closer, enough so to get a better look at all of their faces, the whore's included. She was decently beautiful, a stunner he was sure in other scenarios. Though droplets dripped from her temples, there was nothing galvanizing about her appearance now. The situation was one of high-tensions, and not in the fun way. Not that Talen was really the man to speak about that sort of thing. He could count the number of "fun" situations he's had in his life on one hand, minus the thumb and pinkie. Oh, and the ring finger too.

The brash response to his question drew him to a halt, an impulsive twitch quirking his brow. Boy? Why, how flattering. He hadn't been called that in at least a good few decades. "Ah..." he murmured, clearing his throat and speaking a little louder to continue, "I may have to disagree." His eyes flickered from the sword-wielding man to the woman. She was slowly creeping backwards like a turtle wishing to return to its shell. He could already see this going horribly wrong. Returning his attention to the assailants, Talen lifted his hands in a beseeching show of desired peace. Little did he feel the true desire to keep things clean, but he was aware that that would be the best move presently, for the woman mainly. She appeared human, or at least something similar. Disregarding of her race, he could not distinguish a single thing about her that hinted at a combative soul.

His disagreement with the man hadn't appeared to settle well, but before anything more could be said the man's partner had taken notice of the woman's efforts to escape. Talen drew in a long, slow breath, willing himself to stay patient in a situation he currently had very little control over. It wasn't over yet. There was still a lot of opportunity for him to step in. Still in the spot he'd stopped in earlier, Talen's eyes danced from person to person until he was once again drawn to the one holding the blade. His head tilted minutely, things suddenly clicking rapidly inside of his head. He completely ignored the jab to his kind. It was an old tactic. The King's Mistress, then? A whore indeed, though he doubted these men were much better. "Weighted rumors you carry," he said, crossing his arms across his chest. A familiar sensation tickled his fingertips. Though he often ignored it, he was genuinely considering freezing that man's hands right off with his precious slab of metal.

Catching the woman's words, the elf nodded, agreeing, "I haven't seen her a day in my life." With what appeared to be a death wish, he started to slowly walk closer again. He took is so slow that at first it looked he wasn't closing the distance at all. But oh, he was. And he could see the instant the man with the sword noticed it. The stranger held out his blade, curling his lip in a snarl so fierce it would, maybe, make his granny yelp. "Keep your distance, lest you wish to lose your life on this day." Talen came to a stop again, once more lifting his hands in a placating manner. "I understand," he answered. He met the woman's eyes just then, catching the pleading look in her doe-like gaze, and appreciated the concern he saw there. Truly, he did. But he did not heed it.

Talen acted in a fraction of a second, pulling his dagger free from his belt and sailing it straight towards the man's chest. It missed its mark by just an inch or so, but it was enough to potentially hit a lung, and he was satisfied with that. He watched the man fumble with his sword and cough a spattering of red, then quickly shifted his focus to the other, the one holding the King's Mistress. He clenched and unclenched his fingers repeatedly, ignoring the urge because he didn't wish to harm her as well. A whore or not, she deserved more than the life these men promised for her, and so his cause was made. Stepping closer yet again, he lifted his chin, eyes stony with challenge. "Release her." There was no room for debate in his tone. His resolve was clear, and his features did little to betray it.

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