Abasdarhon's Castle

Well then:
- I'll strike down with my executioner's blade the one who might not have time to react and dodge, at least this round, or, if it doesn't matter,
- then the most dangerous archer I can reach (unless it's the one Felian is taking care of; or, if Felian doesn't one-shot his target, I'll finish him off depending on his HP, not with the executioner's blade, but with a regular attack).

And Felian will probably take care of the one repairing the bow, if he's considered to be holding it.

-- Thank you, you are very kind, -- Liu nodded.
"Resilient... It's like you're talking about an animal. Although a mental imprint is not really a person's soul, but it's still offensive... The dead see everything, feel everything. But okay, they'll understand someday. They are also good people, and some truths just need time to mature."
The Lich went to spend the night at the "Wild Bull," eating ice cream on the way. He was very tired today; let's see what happens tomorrow. I suppose, skip to the morning of the 4th day?

— Good day, — the Collapsian smiled, standing in place near the exit of the room and simultaneously beginning to read the mind of her future employer. — My name is Maylin, and I would like to become part of your expedition as a mage-mentalist.

Quint stepped onto the threshold of his house, angry and tired, as if he had been awake for three days straight, and yet the day was only just beginning to fade. Taking off his boots and throwing off his coat, Grelli walked into the living room. No one... good. He could only hear his wife rummaging through the closet upstairs. Allowing himself a moment of solitude, Quint called out to his son.
-- Decimus!
-- I didn't hear you come in, father. -- Decimus came down, holding a magazine in his hands. He would have liked to know about the fate of that girl, but his father had made it clear to him long ago: he would find out what he needed to know without asking, and what he didn't need to know, he wouldn't find out at all. Therefore, Decimus silently handed the magazine to his father and sat down opposite him, intently looking at his father's face and contenting himself with only guessing what had happened.

Quint, opening the document, is looking for the owner of a Zhuan or Hain name who purchased a shirt one or two weeks ago. Ideally, also his address.

from the camel
- The Lafir, damn them, - said the elf. - We were escorting a caravan and were ambushed. Hence the corpse. Luckily, we didn't all die there. They captured Lifeport, according to the refugees, so we had to return to the city with them.