Off of the Zipanguan Coast one can find many interesting things, perhaps the home of a mythical beast, a island claimed by a abyssal queen not content with her underwater kingdom, or even some place known for some manner of mystical attributes.
Cyrzure is the latter most of the above. Home to an ice that is said to never melt, many a frost spirit lives there. It is said that one of them, a empress amongst the others, can grant wishes. And while this has no confirmation, the mere chance of it being true is enough to lure people to the island.
Roran found his way to the town square, where he sat down and opened his knapsack for tips. He then brought his pan flute to his lips to play a spell song, trying to put in any happiness he had left into the tune. It was a weak spell because of his lack of joy, but he hoped it would work all the same. 
Roran’s song played dull and flat sounds as his uplifting energy ran out. He decided that sympathy may be more effective. Channeling all of his sadness into the song, it slowly switched from a flat, positive tune to one that was much more depressing, and much more powerful. 
Well, at least it wasn't a trap... When he cleared away the snow, he revealed a Dark Elf. She wore a ripped and tattered red cloak over a purple and revealing dress. A arrow stuck out of her right arm and her left leg. Her red eyes look at him derision, which morphs into fear when she sees his sword
Roran couldn’t help it. He was crying again, but he knew that it gave the song more power. Soon enough, he was playing much more beautifully, all the while tears freezing on his face as his heart’s ice chilled him further.
"Yeah,... I know..." Fayard apologized before checking the condition of the wound. He took his handkerchief, which he decried in two, soaking it with a flask of alcohol. He disinfected quickly before securely tightening the emergency bandage. He prepared to remove the arrow from her leg.
Once finished, he moved the dark elf on one of the two blankets and concealed her under the second, head included so that she keeps her heat. Then, he started lighting a fire to create a little heat for their confort, taking anything that burn near them.
When finished, he took out a book from his bag and consulted the contents on a very specific page.
Fayard finishes re-reading the page of the encyclopedia on black elves. He raised an eyebrow as he examined the shape under the blanket. Intrigued, he went to fold the blanket a little to leave his head outside. "Still there?" he asked.
"Who spoke of saving anyone? I was thinking of looting the corpses of looters. And maybe it would save your friends time in a side effect. By gods will." Fayard had a carnivorous smile behind his helmet.
"After all, I need funds and the gods offer me a golden opportunity to make some capital." He began to arm his arbaleste.
"And who can tell me that they will not come to see me just after finishing with you?" he questioned her amused. Not one to let someone slip behind his back.
I would have preferred a bow ... Fayard sighed. "Given your condition anyway you would not have held very long ..." He stopped arming his crossbow, time to put a small kettle on the fire. Before restarting the loading of his crossbow (arbaleste).
Fayard heard the water boiling, which is why he opened a small tin box and took some leaves that he placed in the bottom of the cup. Before, pouring in the water he had just boiled. He then handed the goblet to the elf. Taking time to look how she looked like.
As she took the goblet he could notice that her hair was shoulder length, and that it was a platinum blonde rather than the typical white of her kind. Her eyes were a deep crimson in shade. Though he probably couldn't recognize it, her red cloak was made of Arachne silk.
Fayard forced himself to stop looking at her and concentrated on arming his arbaleste. "Are you coming with me or are you staying there?" he asked tired of silence. "Or I can drop you off somewhere too."
He took the time to think, give his name was not an act without consequence ... But judging the elf poorly endowed in witchcraft, he ends up accepting the risk. He got up and saluted: "Sir Fayard, from ..." he hesitated.
Roran slowly stood, picking up his knapsack and sheathing his knife. He looked around for a sign of a building, trying to find an apothecary or merchant who might be familiar with medicine. His heart pain was increasing by the hour, and he wanted it to end. Now.
The Unagi Joro looks at him in surprise before rushing over to a medicine cabinet. She takes out a jar of ice blue pills and takes two out. She hands then over to Roran. "Here, take these. They're supposed to relieve the pain caused by the touch of a Glacie or other ice elemental."
"I'll sell you this entire jar for two gold. I recommend you take two pills in the morning and one before you go to sleep. They won't relieve the loneliness but whatever pains you'll have will be dulled."
He’d place four gold on the counter and would take the bottle. He’d hesitate before hugging the Unagi Joro from across the counter, trying to thank her between sobs. He was finally free from the painful part of his ailment; the loneliness could be managed for now.
Roran would thank her again before leaving the shop, kissing the bottle and placing it in his bag. Now he was ready to travel up the mountain. He went out to find the rest of the group. “Thank you, Great Ryu,” He’d whisper.
(Look like Ainyl found herself two new toys... 2 /2. And an arbaleste take 30 minutes to load, but its bolt can pierce anything even bronze statues. Even walls from castle get damages. It's an insane weapon ;) )
Fayard abridged the sufferings of his victim and retrieved his sword which he wiped on the holding of the dead before searching it. Seeking currency or documents.
Fayard finished his search and kept the purple gems away. Like the daggers in demon realm silver. He pocketed the money and studied the map. "Daggers if you like, I do not touch that metal, or else, what are these gems?" he explained, pointing to his chin to which he had put aside by prudence.
"The gems? Those contain magic, and in the case of higher quality ones, spells." She said, taking one. She threw it to the ground and as it shattered a column of flame rose. She also took the daggers.
The map had some markings on it, in the northwestern corner lie what looked to be a settlement labeled Duredhel. Around it lay green markings, and in the center lay a orange one. Directly to the north lay a group of red markings and the label "Spiders."
"I leave them to you, I do not do magic." said Fayard, getting up and extending the map. "And this map, I do not know the island, you will get more information than me." He glanced at the two bandits. Wondering how she had made them so docile. He told himself that he had to go back for his bag and his arbaleste.
Fayard returned after a few moments in a run despite his armor. His breathing, although strong, did not betray fatigue for the moment. "Next step?" he asked, beginning to arm his arbaleste again. The pulley making a small mechanical noise while the rope was stretching very slowly.
Fayard felt a hint of anger in him. "She was so sure of her and that's the result... Magic I swear!" He calmed down and retrieved the cloak of the rider he had shot. That he put on, before removing his helmet and hang it on his belt. "I have to do everything myself!" he coughed, hiding his head as best he could with the hood to protect himself from the cold and to be recognise too quickly.
He watched the situation a little longer. To act too fast was dangerous.
While he was aiming he noticed that next to the High Orc was a floating crystal, which was a brilliant emerald. He could also recall that a Crystal Elemental who had some skill in magic was the leader of this group.
He was dying to understand what was happening but a golden opportunity presented itself to him. Fayard took advantage of it to press the trigger and release the monstrous power of the arbaleste, right on his target.
"May the gods be praised." exclaimed Fayard, who concealed the arbaleste, and the last bolts that remained. Before unsheathing his sword and running for the village, with the intention of releasing some elves. After all, creating even more chaos would give him good coverage.
As soon as he reached the camp he saw the shards of the crystal begin to reform. From multiple nearby tents even more crystals emerged and floated to meet the first. Soon enough they formed into the general shape of a human woman.
"I had thought it strange when the patrol hadn't returned. It seems that my suspicions have born fruit." She said in a voice that sounded like the shattering of glass.
“I want you all to cover your ears. The song I’m going to play will shatter your hearts if you don’t.” Roman would then sprint to the highest ground he could spot, point in the direction of the majority of the bandits, and would play loudly, putting all of his despair, anger, and loneliness into his song, trying to make the enemies before him feel the pain that he had had to feel for so long. 
Well, there was a definite effect amongst the bandits. Most of the non Orcish outlaws stopped what they were doing as whatever magic the song had took effect. However, this also effected the elves in the village.
Fayard could see his foe look at Roran, one of her hands turning into a spear before transforming back. "Well, it's been fun, but it appears i just take my best and depart!" She says, shooting crystalline shards at him once more before rushing to find her Orc comrades.
Roran would see the Elemental fleeing, and would play louder, turning his magical song into a sleep spell, hoping to tire his enemies while still pyisically unharming the Dark Elves. If everyone’s asleep, no one can get hurt...
Fayard began to have a fierce headache as the magic made its effect. He checked that the dark elves could manage. And retreated to,o but to recover his belonging and disappear. Grimacing with pain because of the crystals planted in his flesh. Blood dripped under his armor.
Fayard stopped. Knowing he could not escape anymore, he turned around. "I have a long journey waiting for me, and I have nothing to recover that does not belong to the village." he replied, hiding his wounds.
He watched Ainyl. "I see you did well, were you the one who made the explosion?"
Fayard put his right hand on his belt, close to his sword. "I would not want to impose my presence, the real heroes have come to the end, otherwise I would be transformed into an epic pig." he joked before hissing in pain.
"If I had known that this bastard was immortal ..." he muttered.
Roran would find one of the Dark Elves. “I’m guessing your town will want to keep these bandits as... prisoners,” Roran said, almost saying the word “pets” before holding his tongue. “Would you like me to wake them, or will you keep them asleep until they wake?”
Ainyl sighs. "Well, looks like this will be more difficult than expected." Pink energy gathers around her hand, before it gathers around the crystals, the magic pulls the crystals out before gathering at the wounds. Said wounds begin to heal at a faster pace, and whatever pain Fayard would experience dulls.
(In that case.) Fayard went from dream to nightmare, facing an invasion. They were losing and fast. Chaos unfolded before his eyes.
Arbaleste in hand, he was running away. As far and fast as he could. He heard them behind him. Those who did not run fast enough. Geting caught up and calling for help. But he could not do anything alone in front of the dark mass that was approaching inexorably. Fear was now his only guide in the dark forest he thought he knew.
It was then that he jumped into the river and was carried away by the icy current. He woke up sweaty.
With the passing of time he finally got rid of his armor, padded vest and furs protecting him from the cold. Leaving him in shirt and linen pants. He slipped into the bed on which he had been installed and settled himself comfortably. "After all, as far as I benefit." he persuaded himself.
"Well, they were unaware of what I was just like you. It's not something I openly speak about unless asked. Speaking of that, when do you think I can get my journal back?" Roran and Sawyer may overhear their conversation but Grey didn't mind.
Fayard felt silly at the lack of reaction from the owner of the place. "Otherwise ... do you know these bandits? This crystal thing was a real freaking heresy. I literally exploded it with my arbaleste, then cut it with my sword, it barely slowed down. It was coming back constantly...."
"I can only claim familiarity with the Crystal Elemental, and that's because of an.... Incident, that caused the expulsion of all Ogres from this island. And as far as regeneration goes? Did you shoot her while she was whole?"
Roran’s smile faded. He thanked the man and looked down, feeling defeated. It would be a much longer trek than he had originally thought, and he said sadly to his companions, “I’m afraid traveling to the peak will be much more difficult...” Wordless, he walked off toward’s the peasant district, hoping to perhaps be of some use before he continued.
Roran pulls out a small piece of bread he had brought for the journey; he packed light so as to not weigh him down. He gives it to the man, still shocked at the conditions these people lived in. “Who rules over this town? Surely not the Countess Audrey?”
“I’ll need to see to it that something is done,” Roran sighed. A Dragon would most likely be unmoved to the poor, but he’d have to try. “Do you need anything else? If you have a family, I’m sure they’d need assistance as well if they are in your situation.”
“My name is Roran Hiromi, a friend of the Countess Audrey. I wanted to raise concerns of the living conditions of this town with her grace.” While bringing up his ‘friendship’ with the Countess was a stretch, he hoped it would convince the guards to allow an audience.
“I am. I mean not to boast, but I have played the pan flute at the Countess’s manor. Quite the spectacle.” It wasn’t a lie, but he only played to himself on the balcony. “In any case, surely her grace has some time to speak with me?”
“Can’t I show you all my skills as a musician as proof?” Roran could never fight, much less slay an Ushi-Oni. He was completely lacking in any fighting skill, and besides, slaying mamono was not an idea he was fond with.
(I’d keep doing it daily, but I don’t want to keep something going that people don’t want to do)
Roran gulped as he turned to leave. An Ushi-Oni. How could he kill an Ushi-Oni? Well, as long as there’s a chance in helping that town. He remembered seeing a cave near the town as he arrived. Perhaps that was a good place to start. He started heading in that direction.