Within two hours Dath had gathered his gear, ever at the ready due to his usual occupation, and was on his way to the stables to collect his horse. But he decided to first swing by the guards' barracks. He wanted a companion for this journey, a man who knew his way around a fight, and a promising, young captain had caught his eye. Dath strode into the training yard. The clash of steel on steel and the calls of the instructors met his ears. He surveyed the yard a moment before he saw him. Raven-haired Captain Kedemar of Kenrath, who flowed through his forms like water. His sword seemed an extension of himself. Dath smiled as he watched the young man fight. The boy reminded him of his own son, now dead. "Captain Kedemar!" Dath called, cupping his hands over his mouth in order to be heard. Kedemar left his sparring opponent bruised and gasping on the ground before striding over to Dath. "Sir," the young captain said, bowing his head respectfully. Dath briefly explained what he wanted.