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Gastaraa Plains

After finishing their shopping the party goes to retrieve their horses and gather at the front gate. Walking across the camp they must to watch out for tents that are being pulled down and servants that are running around carrying tools and packages and whatnot. There are a lot more horses and oxen around as they are being loaded for the road.

Councillor Xastra arrives at the gate exactly when she said that she would, accompanied by four guards. All are wearing loose capes and no imperial insignia are visible on their clothes or armour. They ride brown horses that look as inconspicuous as fine warhorses ever can. "Are we all good to go?", asks the Councillor and she dismounts to do a final check up of her horse and gear.

All except Rowan recognise two of Xastra's guards, the catfolk Mir that Aerin crushed in the armwrestling match and the half-elf Alfdel that was running the competition. Mir nods to Aerin and makes a gesture with his right hand as if it was in pain. Alfdel snickers.
Rowan nods in response to the councilor’s query. However, before leaving he makes a point to introduce himself to the guards. “Is your arm quite alright?” He asks the elf curiously.