"Why am I not surprised that he vanished right under your noses..." sighed the Guild Master. Neorth sat on a couch with a steaming mug of tea in his hands.

What is he doing here? thought Lydia, but disregarded the merchant immediately. She was here because of her temporary ranger. He was still wounded. And they wanted him back.

"Do you have any idea where he could be?" asked Lydia. "He is still wounded and we're worried. Maria couldn't help me and you and Crear seemed like you knew each other very well, because... because of... his behavior..." she mumbled the last part, not wanting to outright say that it was because of Crear open disregard to the Guild Master.

"There are a few places you could try. But not even I know all of his hiding spots. Sometimes, he vanishes for days, without anyone seeing him leave or enter the city."

"Even a hint would help us!" said Lydia quickly. Her eyes burned. At least a little chance to find him!

"You could try the training grounds of the guards and ask their training master. The tavern downstairs is another favorite place of his. Hmm... The Drunken Eagle is the inn where he stays most often, with the Frozen Bee as a close second. Otherwise..."

"Yes?"

"He could be outside of the city, camping or hunting or doing whatever. But that area is way too large to search. Your best bet would be the taverns in town, those two inns and the training grounds of the guards. He's bound to show up again."

"Only if he doesn't freeze to death or get mugged in an alley because of his bad leg," muttered Lydia under her breath.

Neorth coughed.

"Thank you, Guild Master. I'll be on my way then. I'm sorry for disturbing your meeting with your guest." She threw a curious glance towards Neorth, before practically running out of the room.

She never saw the knowing grins the two men exchanged. Nor did she hear Neorth's whispered: "Looks like I was right!"

Roric and Thira were waiting for her in the lobby.

"The guards training grounds, any kind of tavern and two inns: the Drunken Eagle and the Frozen Bee. According to the Guild Master, if he's not there, he could be anywhere outside of town."

Roric made a face. "The outside seems a bit too large to search."

"He can't be outside. He's still wounded," added Thira.

Lydia nodded. "I'll go through the taverns. You two check the training grounds and the two inns. And keep your eyes open in the streets. We have to get our ranger back!"

"We'll meet back here at lunch bell."

They all nodded and separated.

Lydia didn't go into the basement again, having looked there first. The barkeeper would send someone to her if Crear showed up.

Crear didn't know that his temporary party members had started a fervent search for him. By the time they got the tip from the Guild Master, he was already back in the slums, mending his clothes and napping through the afternoon under Auld Elma's watchful gaze. After dinner, he looked at his wound and garnered a disapproving hiss from Auld Elma.

"At least it's not festerin'," was her only positive reply to the angry red flesh around the stitches.

Putting a cloth under his leg to keep from bleeding onto the rugs, he cut the stitches open again and concentrated on the tiny magic particles, turning them into flesh and blood vessels and nerves. He was drenched with sweat when new skin finally crawled over the exposed flesh and closed the wound on both sides, leaving not even a scar behind. The piece of wood clenched between his teeth to protect his tongue had two new rows of dental impressions.

"Hrmpf." Auld Elma pushed a bowl of soup into his hands and went to bed. A short glance outside showed that it was already dark. Thick clouds hid the moon and snow silently covered the city with a thick, white blanket.

Crear emptied the pot while he watched the snow dance through the streets, before he went to sleep as well.

The next morning, he left right after a breakfast of porridge with a spring in his healed leg, his bow disguised as a cane and one of the older kids tagging along. And thus missed the searching eyes of Thira and Roric, who walked past the east gate just one hour later.

He returned just before the gate was closed, the kid carrying a bundle of three rabbits over their shoulder. Having missed Lydia, who went by on her tavern search half an hour earlier. Their descriptions of him didn't match his current disguise of a blind beggar with his guide, or the guards would've stopped him.

It was pure luck that Thira spotted him two days later, carrying a basket and getting led around by a skinny boy half his size.

"Hey, brother," Thira tapped Roric on his shoulder. "Isn't that our wayward ranger?" She pointed at the blindfolded beggar and the kid. Both wore heavily patched clothes that had seen better days. The pair was slowly walking through the morning market and bought the slightly spoiled fruits and vegetables that others didn't want for a cheap price.

"Are you sure?" asked Roric skeptical.

The pair looked like genuine paupers to him. Patched clothes and dirty.

"Shouldn't Crear be hobbling around because of his wound? This one looks like he's got two healthy legs. And he's got no weapons on him," noted Roric.

"That..." Thira stared at the duo. Yes, nothing but a child leading a blind pauper over the market to shop for food. But it's him.

"You're probably seeing things. We've turned the whole city upside down these past two days. Your eyes are playing tricks on you."

"I'm sure it's him," she insisted. "Please, can we at least follow him for a while? Even if I'm wrong, we won't loose anything by following them around."

"Whatever you say," shrugged Roric.

They kept their distance and followed the pair over the morning market. Apples, potatoes, carrots, cabbages, beans and more root vegetables than they had known even existed.

It was the fourth bell before the pair left the morning market and made their way to the east gate and turned into a back alley.

Roric followed them quickly, but they were gone. Though the footprints in the snow led deeper into the labyrinth of alleys.

"What now? Try and track them down or meet up with Lydia?" asked Roric.

"We meet up with Lydia. It's almost time for lunch, too."

Roric turned around and made his way back to the Adventurers Guild.

"I think they're gone, uncle Cre," whispered the boy as he peeked around the corner of the house. "Who are they? Do you know 'em?"

"Nay. I don't need to know them to know they're bad business, if they're tailin' a blind fool and a kid. Come. Everyone is waitin' for their veggies."

"Bleh," made the kid, but he led Crear through the back alleys nonetheless.

When did they start trailing us? In the market? Even before that? Or did they notice me only a moment ago? Crear chewed on his lip as he tried to find out when Roric and Thira had noticed him. He hadn't known they were being followed until they had left the morning market and were on their way back. With less people around, it had become glaringly obvious.

And why did they follow me?

They distributed the collected vegetables to several families, with the kid taking over most of the talking and handing over.

"Auld Elma! I've brought uncle Cre back, just as ye told me!" reported the kid finally with glee. Then lowered his voice and added conspiratorial: "But we was followed for a while. Dunno who they were. But I guess they don't mean well."

"People followin' a blind man? They are bad business. Now run along. Yer parents are waitin' fer ye." Auld Elma shooed the boy away and let Crear enter the shack, peering left and right before closing the door tightly.

"He just repeated what I told him before," said Crear.

"And would ye've told yer Auld Elma that ye've been followed, boy? He did good to tell me. I'll warn our neighbors to take care. Could be slavers again."

Crear sighed, defeated. There was no talking Auld Elma out of something she had decided.

"Anythin' to do around the house? Else I'll go huntin'. Spirits know ye lot can do with a bit more meat."

"Ye just want to test yer leg again. It's healed up and all, but yer still weak as a kitten. Shoo! Take one of the older boys with ye. I heard Sammy from two lanes down wants to learn. Take him, if his parents let ye." With her broom, she swept him out of the shack, throwing a bag and his weapons after him. "And be back before dusk, ye hear me!"

"Yes, yes!" picking up his bow and quiver and dusting the bag off, he set off to grab one Sammy boy and left the city with him in tow.

Auld Elma looked after him before rubbing her hands.

"Now, where was that boy." Closing the door behind her, she walked through the slums with her broom as a cane and knocked on another shack.

"Comin'," called a man. "Auld Elma! What brought ye out of yer home?"

"I need to find someone and yer boy can help me." The man looked critically at the boy lurking behind him.

"Him? Does nothin' but trouble." He tousled the boys hair lovingly. "Take him, then. But bring him back afore night, yes?"

"Shouldn't take us that long. Else I'll borrow him again tomorrow," cackled Elma. "Gimme yer hand, boy. Ye and me little boy went to the market this morn?"

"Ye lookin' fer them people followin' us?" asked the boy curiously and followed her out of the slums and onto the main street.

"Aie. What did they look like?"

"T'was a real big man, carryin' a small woman on his back. Had blue hair, the woman. Are they slavers? Bad guys wantin' to kidnap uncle Cre?" asked the boy, eyes aglow with excitement.

"I don't know. But I want to find out. Were they wearin' anythin' special? Weapons, jewelry, clothes?"

"Nay. Looked like normal folk. The man had a sword on his belt. And he looked freezin'. Maybe from the south? Else, normal clothes. Few patches, too. Uncle Cre said they followed us from the market. We lost them by hidin' in the backalleys. They said somethin' and left. But we was two streets away and I couldn't hear them talk."

"From the market? Then we'll start there. If ye see them, ye tell me straight away," instructed Elma sternly, keeping a tight grip on the boys hand.

He was much too excited, searching for the people that had followed him just this morning. He would make a fine warrior one day. Or a hunter. They all wanted to be hunters whenever her little boy was around.

They strolled over the market place twice, before sitting down on the rim of the frozen fountain.

No blue hairs...

"There they are!" The boy pointed at the far away northern main street. A burly man, carrying a blue haired woman on his back, walked onto the market place and vanished into the building of the Adventurers Guild.

"Ye sure?" asked Elma.

"Aie! T'was them this mornin'! I've never seen anyone with blue hair."

"Good boy," she patted his head and hopped down from the fountain rim. "Let's take a closer look at them."

"Are they slavers?"

"Nay. Adventurers, by the looks of it. Maybe even friends of yer uncle Cre."

"Uncle Cre's friends? Why would they track him like they was the bad guys?"

"Because yer uncle Cre doesn't want to make friends," sighed Elma.

"Why wouldn't he want friends? He's friends with me." Elma patted his head again. Such a difficult subject to explain to an 8 year old.

"He thinks he doesn't deserve to have friends. Playing with ye kids is somethin' different."

"How is it different?"

"Shush now. Maybe I'll explain it later." Elma pushed the door open and they stood in the lobby. The receptionist looked up at them.

The burly man looked at them with a cursory glance, before fixing his attention back onto the lady warrior standing in front of him. Though the blue haired woman on his back did a double take, staring at her. Nay, at the boy.

The blue haired woman tapped the burly man on the shoulder and whispered loudly: "It's the boy from this morning!"

The boy immediately hid behind her skirts.

Elma put on her best grandmotherly smile and slowly walked over to the trio.

"Good afternoon. I heard ye followed this kid and me blind fool of a boy this mornin'. Why?" she asked straightforward.

The lady warrior eyed her up and down. "Your blind fool of a boy? My apologies. I don't know anything about a blind fool. My friends and I are looking for a ranger wearing a blindfold and with an injured leg. They must've mistaken your blind boy for our ranger. We're very sorry if it has caused you worry."

The lady was at least eloquent and ready to apologize for her mistakes. And they were searching for her boy. They just didn't know it.

"What did ye do to yer ranger that ye have to search for him? I thought ye adventurers kept a watch over yer wounded comrades," she asked innocently.

"He ran away," quipped the blue haired woman and was immediately silenced by a glare from the lady warrior.

"That's something we would like to discuss with him. I'm once again sorry for causing you worry. I'll make sure it won't happen again." The lady warrior bowed towards her and ushered her friends into the tavern down the stairs.

"I tell you, he was with that boy this morning!" grumbled the blue haired woman.

"Ye sure they are his friends?" asked the boy at her side after the trio was gone. "Why would he hide from his friends?"

"That's somethin' we'll have to remedy. Excuse me, miss, I want to post a quest for those three." The receptionist lady nodded slowly and put a sheet of paper onto the counter. "They should come to the east gate between the first and second bell and bring disguises. Specially for the blue haired woman. I need help gatherin' firewood and maybe I know somethin' about their missin' friend." She fumbled two silver coins and a soft feather out of a pouch. "The fee. And they should wear that feather, less I won't recognize them."

A conspiratorial smile spread on the receptionists lips. "I'll make sure they are at the gate tomorrow, Auld Elma."

Elma squinted at the receptionist. "That you, Maria? Me, that soothes me poor ailin' heart. To have ye keepin' watch over these raucous adventurers. Have a good day, me dear."

She left with the boy in tow, buying a small bag of sweets and stuffing it in his hands when they reached the slums. "That's fer yer sharp eyes. Ye up fer some wood gatherin' tomorrow mornin'?"

His eyes brightened.

"But keep it a secret from yer uncle Cre and the others, yes?"

A big smile joined the shining eyes. "Yes, Auld Elma!"

"Good boy. Now run along and ask yer parents. I'll be over after breakfast."

The boy ran off with a happy squeal.