A Life Disturbed: IC

[A Rainy Knight]

Annemarie

Along the way, Annemarie curiously looks over all the other travelers, leaning back and forth in the wagon to get a good look at everyone on their horses and flashing a sunny little smile whenever she makes eye contact with anyone.

Figuring that Ambrose looks about the same age as her, she leans out the side of the wagon to wave at him and catch his attention.

"You said your name was Ambrose, right? Do you guys all know each other?"

* * *

When they arrive at the inn, Annemarie stands by quietly and politely, grateful for the chance to be staying in the inn rather than curling up under the edge of its roof as she'd done more than once as a girl.

Still, she fidgets and seems a little anxious about something. Perhaps she's recalling all the stern lectures and doomsday warnings old Mrs. Grimm had given to the girls in the orphanage classroom about when it was and was not appropriate for young ladies to spend the night with a man in an inn room. It never really occurred to Annie what the exact problem was, but there must have been something wrong about it if Mrs. Grimm said so.

[Archpaladin Zousha]

Ambrose

"Yes. We lived in the same village together most of our lives. Rickard's practically a father to me."

[mr1135]

Rickard

Rickard kept to himself for most of the trip. At times he would look to the Lieutenant, his mind itching to ask him if he had dispatched enough men to find Dayna. If he can guarantee her safety...but he knew that it would do no good to question the man now. How would he know in any case as to their progress. No...if there was anyone to blame if anything is to happen to her, he needs look no further than to himself. He is the one that has failed her. He is the one that is supposed to keep her safe.

He tried taking his mind off of the thoughts brooding in his head by thinking of what he can recall of Calmoor and Melise. Merchants in the past had come from Melise to purchase the mastercrafted wares from The Molten Anvil, his old forge. The Nethicite ore from the mines in the east that they incorporate into their alloys keeps the metals as strong as any, but weighing only half of their contemporaries. This had made the Molten Anvil famed in the lands surrounding their Duchy.

The merchants had often spoken of the massive docks at Calmoor that moored the massive fleets of merchant ships from all across the Windswept Strait. Stories of southern Dathmoori vendors that had braved the Gale Coast, carrying trinkets never before seen by the northern duchies. The never ending stream of workers coming to and fro from the great docks, working their tireless shifts of unloading wares from one ship and onto another.

Of the Melisians he recalls little. Most of the merchants that he had come into contact with were but middle men. Those whom hailed from Melise herself were generally more reserved men, soft spoken and were as careful with their words as they were with coin from their purse.

---
Before he knew it, the sun had begun to descend and they had reached the rest stop.

[Space Lawyer]

Jerrod

Jerrod slows his mount a bit. He had been riding out front, to better catch the fresh breeze coming off the road. He draws alongside the wagon on the same side as Ambrose. "Now yer not goin' n talkin' about folks behind their back are ye? That'd be fair rude, I'd think." His friendly smile makes it clear there is no sharp feeling behind the words.

A long arm reaches out and gives Ambrose a hearty slap on the back. "Aye, same village fer all our lives. Ambrose here is the only one 'at could keep me settled, or at least in line, when I had a bit too much drink in me." Jerrod blushes a bit and stammers. "N-not that that was sumthin' 'at happened all the time, mind ye. Just occasionally got carried away. Rickard oft bought the meat and skins I brought in ta town, n his wife Dayna was the best cook in the village. My family n me are...were...hunters n trappers. Bred huntin' dogs and birds too, the finest in the land."

At this last comment, Tiro's ears perk up. The dog rises from his slumber at the back of the wagon, and pokes his tremendous head up front. "Ye heard a compliment about ye and couldn't resist a listen, could ye?" Tiro simply pants and pretends not to hear Jerrod.

"So now, yer travelin' with a college magier? Would I be right ta think ye've got a bit o' the wizard-magic in ye?"

________________

At the inn, Jerrod strides in with purpose. The horses had been stabled and fed, and were contentedly resting in their stalls. Hieronymus had been but up in the coop next to the pigeons, and had stared through the the wooden slats at them with fury, letting them know that they were his meal if the chance were to be given. Now, it was time for the people to have their fill.

"Innkeeper!" Jerrod bellows with a good-nature. A rotund woman, the very picture of rustic innkeeper, bustles out of the back. Upon seeing the large group, she gives a bit of a start, but quickly recovers. She interprets the mood correctly, and gives an expression that says she is trying to act cross, but feels no such thing.

"Now who is going and yelling for me in my own establishment? Why, it must be some dastardly band of highwaymen if you ask me! I best see what such louts want from me before they threaten to burn my home down and I have to chase the cowards away with a pitchfork!" She can't keep up the act for any longer, and by now has noticed Lanesh's uniform. "What can I get for you, my dears? I've got a barrel of my husband's ale left, some wine that I'll admit is about to turn sour, and some good soup on the fire. No meat in it, mind you. And my rooms are a bit full at the moment. I can spare one for you men. The rest of you will have to sleep in the common room, but there will be space by the hearth for you. The girl can sleep in my room, after I kick my husband out for the night."

Jerrod brightens up at the mention of ale. "An overflowing mug o' yer ale, ma'am, and, he reaches into a bag attached to his belt and pulls out with a flourish two rabbits Hieronymus had caught that day, "here's a bit o' meat fer yer stew, if ye'd like."

****

After everyone else has had their say on what they would like**, Jerrod stands up in front of the roaring fire, his third mug of ale in hand. "Listen well, all of ye, and I'll tell ye the story of the Talloak family!" Ambrose and Rickard have no doubt heard this story before. The assorted other guests at the inn turn to listen. Free stories was one of the benefits of staying at an inn, after all.

"Me forefather was a man named Quentin the Bear. He was truly a bear o' a man, standing taller than any knight's warhorse, n carryin' an axe 'at could split the same horse with a single blow! Now, he was a ruffian n' a brigand, lootin' from high n' mighty that thought to cross his mountains w'out payin' the toll. Mind ye, we don' do that no more, but this was long ago," Jerrod adds, less someone impugn his family's honor.

"Joinin' him were his gang, each a thuggish man and roguish woman more dastardly and conniving than the next. The one that made 'im famous though, different from the rest o' the thieves that roamed the land, were that beside him stood a spirit o' the forest, a 'uge wolf, bigger than any ye ken, an able to eat that warhorse Quentin had split with a single gulp, called Tola! Cause o that, they called them the "Bear and Wolf Brigade"!" Jerrod pauses to take a mighty draught from the mug.

"One day, Quentin heard rumor of a caravan that would be comin' through his pass, and didn' want to pay tha toll. So naturally, he gathered up 'is band an' they set an ambush. Soon enough, he heres hoofs clattering over the rocks o' the path towards 'im. Thing is, they're too fast o be any caravan. O'er top the crest comes this carriage, not like any he's seen afore, and it is movin' fast! The driver looks pale, n he's got arrows stickin' out of 'im, and the fella next to 'im, obviously some kind of soldier, is slumped over. Before he can tell 'is band to hold, they jump out and attack! The horses startle, and the driver cannae keep control no more. The wagon goes crashing off in ta the woods, wheels flyin' off and the wood splinterin'! Bein' a noble sort, Quentin goes off ta see what could've been so important and so dangerous for this carriage to be goin' so fast and ta be attacked like it was.

Now, whoever had built that carriage had done it well, 'cause the main part of it was still alright. The driver and soldier weren't, but this isn't their story. Quentin opens the door, expecting gold beyond measure, gems the size o' his head, things like that. Instead, he just finds a woman, by herself. Now, this bein' a story, this woman was of course a beauty like few 'ave ever seen, but this bein' a story about me family, you'd best believe every word ta be true. Now Quentin of course was struck by 'er beauty, and held out a hand to 'er ta help 'er out o' the wreck. This lady would have none o that though, and she hissed 'n spat at 'im in some gibberish language. Held a knife she drew from her bosom at 'im. "Whoa, now, be calm, I've no intent ta hurt ye, just a a bit o' misunderstandin'," Quentin says. The woman sees he's no foe o' hers, least not the one she thought he was, and replies with a high-talk 'spainin she's a noble from a far-away land, and enemy soldiers were chasin' her, part of a blood feud 'tween her family and theirs. Says her name's Yana. Quentin helps her out o' the coach, n gets her to 'er feet.

Now, its about this time that a whole horde of the enemy soldiers come boundin' o'er the ridge, headplumes a-wavin', horses lathered, and weapons flashin' in the sun! One o' them, with a headplume bigger than the rest in a bloody crimson, holds up a hand and they all stop, weapons front. He sees Quentin an' Yana, and trots his big horse forward. "Give us the girl or die," he says. 'Course, him bein' smitten with Yana, an' not carin' much for bein' threatened at any time, much less on his own lands, Quentin gives a reply not fit fer tender ears, but well enough tells the one with red feather on his head he can just go away from here, without the girl. So, Redhead draws himself up all high n' mighty, an' says "Very well, then you die."

Redhead gives a shout in that gibberish, an' all his soldiers yell n' charge! They thought they were fightin' only some ill-trained scoundrels, but this was the Bear n Wolf Brigade! They also thought they were just fightin' humans. Tola comes springin' out o the trees, and savages the rear o' the enemy force, and the brigade sets on 'em from the side. The enemy was not expectin' anything like this, an' their panicking and running around. Quentin takes off with Yana, heanin' for a ravine he knows the horses cannae jump.

He gets there, but the bridge he was expectin' has rotted an' fallen away! He an' Yana are trapped against it! In only a moment, Redhead arrives, covered in the blood of Quentin's friends! "First you, then Lady Yana!" he screams!

"Ye'll have ta get to 'er first," roars Quentin, drawin' out that battle-axe o' his.

Redhead charges, spear still dripping with blood.

Quentin swings in response, but Redhead averts himself, and the axe misses the horse.

"You were lucky once, but I'll have you this time!" goes Redhead.

"Truly?" smirks Quentin, eyebrow raised." Jerrod pauses to waggle his eyebrows.

"There's a creak, then a crack! Redhead looks to the side where Quentin's swing had gone. A 'uge oaktree has been cut near clean through, and it topples 'cross the ravine. Redhead's horse shies away, but Quentin and Yana are across the tree in a flash.

"Ye'll have to come n' get us then!" laughs Quentin.

Fumin' and snarlin', Redhead gets off 'is horse, and stalks 'cross the tree. Quentin chrages 'im, but turns out Redhead is even more dangerous on his own feet than he is ahorse! A jab o' the spear, then a sweep at the feet, and Quentin is on 'is back, point at his throat.

"I told you that you would die, and now it will be so." says Redhead, a snarl in his voice and hate in 'is eyes.

He raises the spear high for a killing blow...then stops, gurgles, n' falls to his knees. From side o' his neck is stickin' Yana's knife.

"Not all women from our land are helpless, you buffoon. Not even nearly all," Yana says with a smile.

Quentin kicks out, and Redhead falls from the tree, fallin' to the rocks below. Jerrod pauses for a bit.

"Now then, that is a story of how me forerunners Quentin an' Yana met. Tiro's forerunner, Tola, too, if ye hadn't guessed that." The inn-goers who looked at the behemoth laying by Jerrod's feet had no doubt the dog was descended from a monstrous forest spirit.

"The story of their courtship is, of course, a tale for another night." Jerrod finishes off the ale, bows, and leaps off the hearth.

*Note: "ye" is with a short e, not a long e. So, "bed" instead "bee"
He is purposefully trying to speak a bit "more proper" around Annemarie.
**I'm not trying to skip over anyone, I just had this story working in my head for a bit. Feel free to consider Jerrod's tale as in media res.

[A Rainy Knight]

Annemarie

On the road, Annie seems doubly pleased that her new friend Jerrod is also coming to talk to her. She smiles and laughs a little at the lively conversation between Jerrod, Ambrose, and Tiro and then nods at his question about her magic.

"Yup! Um, I wouldn't say I'm a wizard, but I'm pretty good with fire! I can start it, stop it, shoot it, make it bigger, make it move around... I've been getting better at not starting fires when I don't want to, too. Practice makes perfect!"

She looks back at Ambrose and Jerrod, pumping her fists energetically.

"So if we run into any bad guys out here, I'll protect you guys. Fwooosh!"

She wiggles her fingers dramatically along with her sound effects. It might feel a little odd for the pair of them to have their safety guaranteed by such a petite young lady, but she seems earnest.

* * *

At the inn, Annie seems relieved at having her arrangements taken care of and pipes up that she'd like a serving of the stew.

She claps cheerfully at the end of Jerrod's story.

"Wow! Your family sounds really amazing."

[mr1135]

Rickard

Settling into the inn, Rickard sits himself by a table in the corner near the hearth. It's been awhile since he's made such a long ride on a horse, and he isn't as spry as he used to be. Slowly nursing the ale in his hand, he listens as Jarrod regales his forbear's tale, one which he had told with much merriment back in Telas. It was a popular tale that the men had oft' enjoyed after a long day's work. For the first time in what seemed like days, he allowed himself a moment of respite. A smile creeps onto his face as he sees how both the lads are sneaking glances at Annemarie when they think she's least suspecting.

Boys will be boys...

As Jarrod reached the end of his tale, and idea enters his mind and Rickard could not help himself but to make a jest at the lad's expense. Catching Jarrod's eye, he winks and calls to him loudly as the hunter leaps off the hearth.

"Lad, I think you've had a few too many drinks. If Yana is as fair a maiden as you make her out to be, then by my eyes your great great grandsire more than likely must've mated with Tola instead!"

His joke elicits a hardy laughter from the crowd gathered.

Standing up from his seat, he grabs two more pints of ale from the tray of a nearby barmaid and hands one to the lad. Clinking their mugs together and giving Jarrod a firm pat on the back, he takes a gulp of the ale before wandering over to Ambrose.

Before the boy could speak, Rickard looks him in the eyes and holds up a hand for him to wait.

"Lad, I know you've got an eye for the lass. No, you don't have to explain yourself to me. You may have sharper eyes than I, but even I can see that she's finer looking than any other in Telas. By the Gods if all you do is sit here all night sneaking peeks at her, you best ready yourself to lose her to your dear friend Jarrod, whom may I add have been exceptionally charismatic. Now I had done you a small favour by adding that quip to even the playing field. You better take this opportunity to make your move before he recovers."

Clinking his pint to Ambrose's, he finishes his ale and places the mug onto the table before standing.

"You boys have fun."

Preparing to retire to his corner by the hearth, Rickard quickly turns back around and adds, "And for the love of the Gods, don't break anything."

[Archpaladin Zousha]

Ambrose

"You think that's impressive, you should see my scar!"

Ambrose shifts his shirt a bit to reveal the old scar from his childhood.

"I got this when I was just a babe, from a boar. And not just any boar! Droit the Man-Eater himself! You've heard of him, I bet? The great boar that roams the woods near Dueggan and makes himself a menace to farmer and traveler alike? Well, when I was just a child, Droit sought to make me his next meal. The old boar likes the taste of man-child the best, they say, as it was men that took his own children from him. Anyway, Droit bit me right there, as he carried me in his mouth from the field he'd found me in to his hole in the ground, where he could eat his prize in peace. But he didn't eat me that day! I thrashed around and got the old pig to drop me. And it was at that time that my grandsire, Marlin showed up and drove him off. He saved my life, but to this day, I've seen Droit on occasion, back near the village where I used to live. He'd root around the outskirts and stare at me when I was out and about. I think he's still hungering for me, the boy that got away. And someday, I'll take this sword of mine and stick him with it like his tushes stuck me, and end his menace for good."

Ambrose smiles. Yes, he may have embellished the story a little bit. He'd only been a baby at the time, you couldn't have expected him to fight the boar off by himself. Jerrod would only have called him on his tall tale. But maybe it would impress her. Ladies found scars impressive, right?

[A Rainy Knight]

Annemarie

Annie curiously eyes Ambrose's scar and listens to his story on the edge of her seat.

"Whoa! That sounds like it was super scary. You go get him, Ambrose!"

She looks around and sees that there's a little break in the action, so she stands up and clears her throat noisily.

"Ahem! My turn! This was about five years ago... maybe?"

She thinks about this for a moment but ultimately decides that it's not that important and continues.

"I was sitting out on the front stoop of the orphanage, writing a birthday letter to Mr. Thorton down at the butchers' shop. When all of a sudden, whoosh!"

She does a "fluttering away" gesture with her hands.

"The wind snatches it right up! I'm like, 'Uwah! Give that back, I bought that letter fair and square!' Of course, the wind felt pretty good on a hot day like that, but that letter was super important! I took off running, but just when I caught up to it, rawr!"

She does a "snapping jaws" gesture this time.

"This big doggy picked it right up in his jaws! So I say, 'Waaah! I don't care how cute you are, doggy, I really need that letter!' But he just took off running into the market square. I chased after him, and it was pretty fun in its own way, but the market was pretty busy, and a cart wheel rolled over the hem of my skirt. Wha-bam!"

She stomps her foot on the floor for emphasis.

"I scraped myself up a bit, but that doggy was getting away, and my skirt was caught! But then I think, 'Hey, this is what my bloomers are for, right?' I wriggle on out, and everyone's looking at me a bit funny, chasing that silly doggy down in my bloomers, but then I hear old Mrs. Grimm shouting at me!"

She does her best impression of a cranky old lady's voice.

"Annemarie! What in blazes do you think you're doing? You get your butt back inside this instant!"

She goes back to her usual voice again.

"So now I'm like, 'Uwah! No way!' For an old lady, Mrs. Grimm sure can run fast! She's got that old ruler in her hand and everything! I just ran and ran, chasing down that doggy while Mrs. Grimm chased me. I never did get that letter back, but when I told Mr. Thorton what happened, he just laughed and laughed and seemed really happy. So I guess I gave him a good birthday present after all!"

She smiles and sits back down, seeming pleased with herself. Her story might not have the dramatic impact of the ones before it, but her animated storytelling manages to elicit a few chuckles from the audience.

[Space Lawyer]

Jerrod

Jerrod gives a bit of involuntary flinch when Annie waggles her fingers, but manages to catch himself when he notices nothing has caught on fire.

"I'm glad yer with us, then!"

* * *

Jerrod turns a bright shade of red at Rickard's slight. "Yer no beauty yerself, ye old coot..." is the most eloquent response he can grumble out.

He gives a bit better with the end of Ambrose's tale though. "Aye, look at the fearsome man, proud o' where he got hisself bit by a pig! I say he dropped ye on account yer too chewy n' priggishness not bein' a flavor 'e favors!" He claps his own hand on Ambrose's back. It might have been a bit of a tale, but Jerrod knew Droit was easily as fearsome as Ambrose had described.

He listens attentively to Annie's story, laughing at the appropriate places and following with sound effects. At the mention of Annie's bloomers though, Jerrod turns positively incarnadine, and has a bit of trouble swallowing down the ale in his mouth. He has to thump himself on the chest a few times. "Ahahaha! Ye've certainly added a touch o' the comedic to mine n' Ambrose's stories o' bravery and heroism, Miss Annie!"

[Archpaladin Zousha]

Ambrose

Ambrose scowls as Jerrod deflates his dignity, and grunts as Jerrod's slap causes his shoulder pain to flare up, but Annemarie seems taken in by it and thinks it gave the impression he wanted. When she starts telling her unintentionally raunchy tale of running around in her underwear, Ambrose turns as red as Jerrod does and chokes on his drink a bit. He wants to comment, but Jerrod had it in one.

What struck him was how Annemarie talked. She looked like a beautiful young woman, but spoke like a child. He wasn't sure what to make of her. Maybe growing up in an orphanage did that to you. He wouldn't know. He was technically an orphan too, but he'd had Marlin to teach him right from wrong, what it meant to be a man, how to work the forge, even a bit of harp-playing.

He frowns a bit as he remembers Marlin, rubbing the scar from the skeleton's blade, not realizing he was exposing the jagged, fresher mark to Annemarie and Jerrod.

[mr1135]

Rickard

Rickard, having retreated back to his corner by the hearth in the commons takes out a blanket from his pack and begins to settle in. As rowdy as the patrons may be, the long day's travel has taken its toll on his spirits and he still hopes to wake early enough to find time to hone his rusty basic sword skills before continuing on their journey. Sitting down and leaning his back with his pack as a cushion, he stretches one last time before wrapping himself up comfortably, enjoying the warmth from the fire.

Taking one last look at the lads as they continue their little game of court the lass, Rickard can't help but grin under the cover of his blanket. Hopefully the boys will keep it civil, but as far as he was concerned the two of them needed to understand one another better and there's nothing like a little harmless competition to do so. And as much as he worried at first of the distraction their new companions may bring to the group and their mission, he knew that it was just as important for them to move past what had happened in Telas. Becoming consumed by revenge would only hinder their minds from seeing all the possibilities ahead. Hopefully they'll make good time on the morrow and arrive at Calmoor before sun down.

[A Rainy Knight]

Annemarie

As it gets later, Annie yawns and looks idly around the room, taking in all the bustle and chatter. She eventually gets to her feet and walks over to Ambrose and Jerrod, putting her hands bashfully behind her back.

"Um... I just really told the bloomers story in front of everyone, didn't I? With sound effects and everything."

She laughs awkwardly and glances off to the side before looking back at them.

"S-sorry if I came across as a little weird today. It's just that I'm more excited than I've ever been in my life! I'm leaving Dueggan for the first time, and I'm actually going to magic school, and I'm meeting all these wonderful people... I'm just soooo happy!"

She sighs but smiles widely.

"So, I hope we'll be able to get to know each other better tomorrow. I'll be in your care~♪"

With that, she spins happily on her heel and hums as she heads off to the innkeeper's room to find a nice private place to curl up for the night.

[Space Lawyer]

Jerrod

Jerrod finishes off his fifth...sixth?...mug of ale. Just enough to get a cozy fire in his belly and a make the world a bit brighter (if a bit out of focus) place. The fire in the hearth is dying down to its last few crackling logs, the hot embers still warming the room but not casting so much light as to disturb sleep. The atmosphere in the room is settling down as well, as guests either make off for their private rooms or find a spot on the warm flagstones of the hearth.

Jerrod rests heavily on the bench, looking across the table at Ambrose. "I know yer carryin' the memory o' Telas in those scars. I've got my own scars, he says, nodding his head at his pack, across which is draped the bloodstained bearskin. He reaches into his pocket, and draws out a small finger bone, blackened from fire and wrapped with strip of birch bark. "We're gon' ta find tha ones that took our homes, n' that'll be the sorriest day o' their miserable lives. Ye've a mighty big stick up yer bum sometimes, Ambrose, but I'm glad yer one fightin' 'side me."

Having said his piece, Jerrod rises from the bench and settles down on a clear spot on the stones, head resting against Tiro's rhythmically rising side. In under a minute, he is fast asleep.

[Archpaladin Zousha]

Ambrose

Ambrose nods to Jerrod as he makes his little speech. He hadn't had very many to drink, but he understood why some needed it badly. He mulls over what went on and spends a lot of time staring off into space before falling asleep on his stool.

His dreams are troubled ones.

[Erasmas]

Shadowslayer

Kainan made the rest of the trip in silence, as he much preferred things. Somebody bothering him meant that they stood the chance of finding out more than they needed to know... and that had always spelt trouble in the past. It was better this way.

He stayed close the Garth and did what he was being paid to do - keeping an eye on the man, while also doing his best to study those that he now traveled with... especially the Lieutenant. Once they arrived at the small inn, the thief found himself a quiet and darkened corner to put himself in while he supped and drank lightly. And when the time came to bed down, he made sure that he did so at least within earshot of where his charge did the same.

[Feirgon]

The Farmer's Toil is more of a cafeteria than it is an inn. It has stalls for horses, but inside it only has a great room, one bedroom for the keepers, one other bedroom, a cellar, and a kitchen. Humble describes the building very well.

It sits on the border of The Duchy of Dueggan and the County of Sereca. Sereca has only one major town within its border, and that is Calmoor, but it covers a large stretch of land. The magistrate overseeing Sereca keeps peace as best he can, but he has a much smaller military than Dueggan.

"Tomorrow we will be travelling the day through the Serecan forest. It is outside of the jurisdiction of Dueggan, so we have to hope that Magistrate Thomason is not sitting on his laurels."

Silas looks over his shoulder, toward the forest, as everyone gets off their horse. A concerned look is on his face.

After everyone enters the inn, Dren and the young boy are given the other bedroom and retire earlier than the rest.

---

During the evening the innkeeper, George Hayfield, approached the lieutenant.

"The forest isn't safe, if you haven't heard."

"I'm aware of the banditry in the woods-"

"No, you don't seem to understand." The innkeeper points around the room. "There are those in here who have been waiting many days before there is a large enough group heading to Calmoor. The banditry has become much worse. Even guarded merchants wait for larger groups." Two merchants are conversing and it is obvious that the armed men around them are hired guards.

Lieutenant Lanesh nods as he looks around.

"Why has word not spread? Duke Erhald seemed to know nothing of this."

"The danger seems to only apply to those heading to Calmoor. And Magistrate Thomason is keeping silent about it."

"Well, then perhaps a larger group would dissuade these bandits"

"I truly hope so."

As the innkeeper walks away, Silas stands up and addresses everyone in the common room.

"I am Lieutenant Lanesh of The King's army. I will be travelling to Calmoor tomorrow morning. If any of you are so inclined you are welcome to join our group as we travel through the forest."

To this, many raise their glass and some even clap.

---

In the morning, two merchants and two families join the group. The first merchant is round and has two guards with him, he looks to be trading in clothes and textiles. The other merchant is much thinner and has three guards. He looks to be taking ore and minerals in his wagon. Of the two families, one has two middle aged parents and two young children; a boy and a girl. Dren offers to let the mother and the two young children ride in his wagon. And the other is a young couple with an infant. Dren also offers a place on the wagon for the young mother and infant. Annemarie will notice that the wagon is quite cramped.

Kainan notices that in the commotion, there is a great opportunity for Garth to sprint away in either direction. But the two brothers lock eyes and little is made of the opportunity.

The merchants do not offer any space on their wagons for the few without mounts.

Spoiler

Show

If there is any concern that the two adult males without mounts would slow down the group, it is understood that travelling through the woods is slow regardless of mount. Especially with wagons.

[Archpaladin Zousha]

Ambrose

At this announcement, Ambrose approaches Lieutenant Lanesh.

"Lieutenant, I know your job is to escort me and the others, but I'd like to take point on today's ride. I wanna be first in line to fight if these bandits take a crack at us. Better I take the hits than some merchant or child who'd crumble under them. After all, what is a hero but someone willing to lay down his life for others, right?"

[Feirgon]

Ambrose

At this announcement, Ambrose approaches Lieutenant Lanesh.

"Lieutenant, I know your job is to escort me and the others, but I'd like to take point on today's ride. I wanna be first in line to fight if these bandits take a crack at us. Better I take the hits than some merchant or child who'd crumble under them. After all, what is a hero but someone willing to lay down his life for others, right?"

The lieutenant smiles at the boy. He then leans in to talk so that others might not be alarmed by what he has to say.

"Feel free to ride where ever you wish in the group. If bandits do decide to attack such a large group, it is just as likely to come from the sides or behind as it is from the front.

We will, after all, be surrounded by forest."

[Archpaladin Zousha]

Ambrose

Ambrose flushes as he realizes he was talking too loud. He lowers his voice as he nods.

"Thank you, Lieutenant. I'll be honest, I was concerned you were going to stick me someplace where I would be out of the way. Protect the person you're escorting at all costs, you know? But I can fight. And I want to fight. If I can't fight to protect people from mere bandits, then I don't deserve to be the one fighting to protect them from The Black God."

He spits on the floor and makes the sign of the sun with his left hand to avert the evil.

[A Rainy Knight]

Annemarie

In the morning, Annie curls up in the wagon, a little short on legroom but apparently not at all annoyed by it. She makes funny faces at the infant and plays hand games with the two kids that she often played with the other orphans during her own childhood.

Soon, she turns to tap the shoulder of the boy who had been traveling with Dren the other day.

"Um, hello! Sorry I didn't get the chance to talk to you yesterday. Are you going to mage school too?"

She gasps with realization.

"Are we going to be classmates?! Oh, that'd be so exciting!"

[Erasmas]

Shadowslayer

Kainan rolls his eyes at the announcement and lets out a quiet sigh to himself, More people means more chances of prying into affairs best left alone. Not to mention, if we are attacked by these bandits... that's that many more that we will be expected to protect. And two merchants dripping with more worth than all of our lives are worth. Perfect., the rogue thinks. He observes the exchange of looks between Garth and Silas, but says nothing of the matter. 'It's better to say little and know much than the other way 'round, Kainan. Remember that.'

The so-called "Donovan" then nudged his horse and gave it a click of his tongue, causing the mare to move closer to where Garth was mounting up. He then then forward in his saddle and rested his forearms upon its pommel, waiting to follow this walking meat train into the dragon's den.

[Space Lawyer]

Jerrod

So, they would be travelling through the forest? Good, that was just where Jerrod felt most comfortable. Travelling with this many people would be difficult though. It was doubtful they'd make anything close to as good of speed as they had yesterday.

Jerrod trots his horse up to Ambrose and Lanesh. "I'll be coming up front with ye. Ye've got a strong sword arm, but ye've not lived in the forest as I have."

[Archpaladin Zousha]

Ambrose

"I'll be glad for the aid of your sharp eyes, Jerrod. No bandit could sneak up on you!"

[mr1135]

Rickard

Waking early just before sunrise as he has for so many years, Rickard gently eases himself off of the corner in which he slept, and maneouvered his way out of the Farmer's Toil through the mix of sleeping bodies.

Finding an open barrel outside the establishment that was filled by rainwater, he washes his face and takes a moment to collect himself.

Prepare yourself Rickard. There'll likely be trouble before the day's end.

Moving into the nearby stable where their mounts were resting, he spends a few moments reacquainting himself with his horse. He was lucky in his choice, one he perhaps have the Sargeant to thank for back in Dueggan for having provided them. It was a strong and hardy steed that should fare well if in the case that they are to ride into battle against bandits. Though Rickard would hate to have to shed blood once more, there is little doubt in his mind that their journey will ever be one of relative ease.

Without another thought, he exits the shed and begins going through the simple sword routines the Sargeant had taught him all so many years ago. As his father used to preach to him, "Luck is a matter of preparation meeting opportunity." And as of now, their continued survival will depend on them being able to exploit such opportunities as they come. With the events in Telas, their greatest and least practiced trait is the powers the Sigils imbued into them. Rickard calms his mind and tries to remember the feeling of the shield and sword forming over his body. The ethereal powers coalescing into physical form and steeling their conviction. If he can manifest the powers given to him by the Crystal, then perhaps they may stand a chance against whomever stands in their way.

---
As the sun begins to rise and the others begin to wake, Rickard returns to the Farmer's Toil to break his fast with the others before continuing their journey towards Calmoor.

Seeing the zeal in the lads' eyes, he doubts he would be able to stop them from taking the lead for their small caravan. Moving his mount up beside the both of them, he gives them a nod and emphases his words by a firmly grip onto the sword sheathed on his side.

"Jarrod, you know what to do. I'll be the last person to advise you on your craft. That said, be careful. These will be humans that's after our hides, not beasts. Be cautious of anything we are to encounter. Ambrose, I know you want to prove yourself, but remember our goal. Keep the civilians safe first and foremost. Do not let your passion for justice overcome your sensibilities. Best of luck lads."

[Feirgon]

Annemarie

In the morning, Annie curls up in the wagon, a little short on legroom but apparently not at all annoyed by it. She makes funny faces at the infant and plays hand games with the two kids that she often played with the other orphans during her own childhood.

Soon, she turns to tap the shoulder of the boy who had been traveling with Dren the other day.

"Um, hello! Sorry I didn't get the chance to talk to you yesterday. Are you going to mage school too?"

She gasps with realization.

"Are we going to be classmates?! Oh, that'd be so exciting!"

The boy looks to be about ten years old. His hair is dark and his face is often expressionless. He holds himself rather timidly.

When he turns to look at Annemarie, she notices that his eyes seem to appear older. As if he had lived longer than his body showed. There was an eerie silence as the two stared into each others eyes.

Then a voice entered Annie's head, the voice of a ten year old boy.

Hi, my name is Liam.

I hope you don't mind me talking to you like this, but I can't speak any other way.

The effect is startling, the expressions on his face align squarely with the words in her mind, but there are no sounds coming from outside her head.

"Ah, that is probably my fault."

Dren interrupts Anne's thoughts with his words. He looks down at the two of them. He then looks at Anne.

"I imagine you are aware of his skill by now? In any case, do not be alarmed.

Oh, and you two will most likely not share many classes together."

Dren says this last part with a chuckle.

[Feirgon]

Rickard

Waking early just before sunrise as he has for so many years, Rickard gently eases himself off of the corner in which he slept, and maneouvered his way out of the Farmer's Toil through the mix of sleeping bodies.

Finding an open barrel outside the establishment that was filled by rainwater, he washes his face and takes a moment to collect himself.

Prepare yourself Rickard. There'll likely be trouble before the day's end.

Moving into the nearby stable where their mounts were resting, he spends a few moments reacquainting himself with his horse. He was lucky in his choice, one he perhaps have the Sargeant to thank for back in Dueggan for having provided them. It was a strong and hardy steed that should fare well if in the case that they are to ride into battle against bandits. Though Rickard would hate to have to shed blood once more, there is little doubt in his mind that their journey will ever be one of relative ease.

Without another thought, he exits the shed and begins going through the simple sword routines the Sargeant had taught him all so many years ago. As his father used to preach to him, "Luck is a matter of preparation meeting opportunity." And as of now, their continued survival will depend on them being able to exploit such opportunities as they come. With the events in Telas, their greatest and least practiced trait is the powers the Sigils imbued into them. Rickard calms his mind and tries to remember the feeling of the shield and sword forming over his body. The ethereal powers coalescing into physical form and steeling their conviction. If he can manifest the powers given to him by the Crystal, then perhaps they may stand a chance against whomever stands in their way.

---
As the sun begins to rise and the others begin to wake, Rickard returns to the Farmer's Toil to break his fast with the others before continuing their journey towards Calmoor.

Seeing the zeal in the lads' eyes, he doubts he would be able to stop them from taking the lead for their small caravan. Moving his mount up beside the both of them, he gives them a nod and emphases his words by a firmly grip onto the sword sheathed on his side.

"Jarrod, you know what to do. I'll be the last person to advise you on your craft. That said, be careful. These will be humans that's after our hides, not beasts. Be cautious of anything we are to encounter. Ambrose, I know you want to prove yourself, but remember our goal. Keep the civilians safe first and foremost. Do not let your passion for justice overcome your sensibilities. Best of luck lads."

When he closed his eyes, he could almost see the blue mist around him. In his mind he could feel the weight of the shield on his arm. Perhaps the image was born from his memories, but it allowed him some measure of focus.

But when his eyes opened or when he tried to prove the shield's existence, he found nothing. Aside from the few bruises on his forearm from testing, the experience left him exhausted. Not exhaustion in the typical physical sense, but one of mental or spiritual nature.

The breakfast helped lift most of the exhaustion, but his mind refused to allow him to focus as he had in the morning.

[A Rainy Knight]

Annemarie

Annie looks curiously at Liam and listens intently to Dren, fascinated by his ability if a little disappointed that they'll be split up more often than not at school.

She waves away Liam's reservations about his method of communication.

"Oh, it's fine! I don't mind. So, can you read my mind or anything? Can you see what I'm thinking right now?"

She gets herself a little flustered.

"O-ohmygosh! Why are so many embarrassing things popping into my head as soon as I say that?!"

She laughs sheepishly and leans out the side of the wagon for a moment to keep an eye on the men taking the lead in the caravan. She wanted to try to talk to them a little more today, but she honestly feels a lot safer in the wagon, even if she could defend herself much more effectively than most of the other people huddled up beside her. It's been a long time since she's touched a person with her flames, much less used them as a weapon.

[Feirgon]

Annemarie

Annie looks curiously at Liam and listens intently to Dren, fascinated by his ability if a little disappointed that they'll be split up more often than not at school.

She waves away Liam's reservations about his method of communication.

"Oh, it's fine! I don't mind. So, can you read my mind or anything? Can you see what I'm thinking right now?"

She gets herself a little flustered.

"O-ohmygosh! Why are so many embarrassing things popping into my head as soon as I say that?!"

She laughs sheepishly and leans out the side of the wagon for a moment to keep an eye on the men taking the lead in the caravan. She wanted to try to talk to them a little more today, but she honestly feels a lot safer in the wagon, even if she could defend herself much more effectively than most of the other people huddled up beside her. It's been a long time since she's touched a person with her flames, much less used them as a weapon.

Liam blushes at her reaction.

You don't have to talk out loud. I can hear you if we are looking at each other. Just imagine what you would want to say to me and I will hear it as if you are talking to me.

Dren leans in close to Anne.

"You should refrain from speaking too loudly about Liam's powers. Most people don't welcome such abilities."

He looks at the others in the wagon, but most seemed to not have heard or taken notice to what Annemarie said.

Spoiler

Show

Kainan might have heard what she said. And most likely both Garth and Silas heard it too.

But if Erasmas doesn't read this spoiler, then Kainan didn't hear what she said, ha!

[mr1135]

Rickard

As they begin their ride towards the forest, Rickard pushes back the cuffs of his long sleeved jerkin to rub the bruising on his his left arm. His spirits, now worse for wear, puts him in a slightly darker mood while he contemplates further on his practice session.

There must be a way to release the powers of the Sigil...if only we had more time in Dueggan to consult the ancient books...perhaps when we are close in proximity to another Crystal, I can test it once more...

Still a bit conscious of the others around him, he quickly slides his sleeve back and continues to ride along side the Lieutenant. Off handedly, he asks Lanesh as they reach the outskirts of the forest.

"How thick is this forest Lieutenant? Will it take us more than a day's ride to arrive in Calmoor?"

[Feirgon]

Rickard

As they begin their ride towards the forest, Rickard pushes back the cuffs of his long sleeved jerkin to rub the bruising on his his left arm. His spirits, now worse for wear, puts him in a slightly darker mood while he contemplates further on his practice session.

There must be a way to release the powers of the Sigil...if only we had more time in Dueggan to consult the ancient books...perhaps when we are close in proximity to another Crystal, I can test it once more...

Still a bit conscious of the others around him, he quickly slides his sleeve back and continues to ride along side the Lieutenant. Off handedly, he asks Lanesh as they reach the outskirts of the forest.

"How thick is this forest Lieutenant? Will it take us more than a day's ride to arrive in Calmoor?"

"The forest should take no more than a day to cross, even on foot. After that, Calmoor is another day away.

If we make good time, there is a farming village on the other side of the forest. But, I think we will most likely be camping under the stars tonight."