Slowly, the group moves along the trail to the Northeast.

The land becomes rockier as you march, with boulders and deep crevaces regularly inter spaced by thick grass and scrubby bushes.

The result is terrain that is slow to navigate, and though you can see quite far due to the lack of trees, there are many places for potential enemies to lie in wait.

Still, the road is well traveled enough that you don't have difficulty moving the small train of horses and equipment.

It is only a few hour before whoever is scouting will see signs of a small town in the distance.  The first things you can see are trails of smoke leading up from (presumable) cook stoves and the like and frequent animal tracks in the road.

OOC:  Pausing here before you can see the town in case you want to scout further before proceeding.

In reply to GM (msg # 1):

So we are just a band of mercenaries and one minstrel looking for food, work and succor?

and ideally a very discreet blacksmith.

In reply to Titus Blackwell (msg # 2):

"We're a band of mercenaries, one of which is also a minstrel," Brennan corrects gently. "We're in the business of collecting coin for services, musical and muscular alike."

He addresses the others.

"Which reminds me. Money we collect from now on should go to a common fund, carried and administered by me. I'll keep a ledger and pay out everyone's agreed-upon salaries plus bonuses as applicable. If you're ever unhappy with your arrangement or think that I'm somehow benefiting more than I should be, we can talk about it."

Brennan clears his throat.

"With that settled... Deev, how do you feel about scouting a little ways down the road? I think you're the quickest and the quietest of us all."

In reply to Brennan Otthild (msg # 3):

Deev looks shocked, but he nods his head vigorously.

"Yea, I suppose that makes the most sense dunnit?"

He scrambles to the top of a tall rock and peeks over carefully.  When he clambers back down he his not Deev, but a filthy old woman with an impressive mustache and a large warty nose.

Thus obscured, he wanders further down the path until he is out of sight.

In reply to Deev (msg # 4):

As there are few trees, the birds chirp from the bushes as you wait.

In reply to GM (msg # 5):

It isn't long before the old woman comes back, much more pep in her step it would seem than on the outward journey.

As he rounds the last rock, the old woman is once again the young and fidgety Deev.

"Aye... well I got round the point ok, and there was the town.  Well, SOMETHING happened there for sure.  Lots o' the houses is burned, didn't see any bodies.  A lot of hoofprints ringing around too further up, likely a big group of horses or cavalry or something."

Deev looks quite scared, but not much more so than usual.

"Is this what it's always like out here?  It's terrible but it's not dull."

"No, there is not always big group of horses," Enrei informs Deev.  He nudges his horse forward under the assumption that the town being partially burned has not disqualified it as their next destination.

In reply to Enrei Omal'i (msg # 7):

"No bodies, but... any survivors? Anything worth rummaging through for useful parts?"

Brennan frowns.

"They can't have just vanished. And it takes a great many horses to carry off an entire village double-saddle. Did you see cart wheels? Or perhaps a mass grave?"

He reaches down to his belt, hovers his hand near the cup (which hangs from his belt on a leather thong), then thinks better of it and jerks his hand away.