Once the Councillor is finally satisfied with how her packs are arranged, the party of ten humanoids and ten horses proceeds to leave the Imperial camp. The red-haired giants are up doing combat exercise, and the clanging from their weapons or the tremor of the earth when they charge can't be missed by anyone. Xastra rises her hand in greeting as they ride past the huge figures, and two of them that are currently not engaged in the practice respond with a wave and a nod.

They take the main road this time, and travel briskly but not at full gallop. The weather is cloudy and gloomy, it's in that weird state when the Rainmaiden can't quite decide whether she wants it to pour or not. A few random drops come down, but nothing more.

A few hours pass uneventfully. They meet some fellow travellers, going in the other direction. A group of human mercenaries, an elven courier, a few poor people on foot and a carriage transporting barrels, to name a few. None of them try to initiate much of a conversation, only the typical questions about the weather, roads and bandits, until they come across a group of halflings camped by the roadside. There are about a dozen of them, with all ages represented, an extended family perhaps. A small wagon and an even smaller carriage are set to the side, and a pony and a rather strong looking goat are chewing grass nearby. Most of the halflings are minding their own business, but one woman runs over to the road when she sees the party coming, waves and wails at them.

"Please, please, good folk! Can you help us?! Kind strangers, please!"

A man runs over to her and tries to pull her away. "Elsia, stop. Leave the fine folk alone, they got no time to spare."