The party make their way hurriedly down the slope on the far side of the hill and into the trees below. Calvorn and Falnis notice that there appear to be a good number more horses tethered to the trees than when they left, and the reason for this becomes apparent as they make out Caled's voice speaking as they approach.

"Lady Veldorn," the young knight makes no effort to hide the condescension in his voice, "you will most certainly not be accompanying us in our rescue. I will not have a lady wielding a blade, no matter how well she believes her father trained her in its use."

His tone leaves no doubt that he feels this belief to be a thoroughly mistaken one.
This message was last edited by the player at 09:50, Tue 07 Mar 2023.

Lyria's voice can be heard soon after, slightly raised and very determined, her tone suggesting this argument has been ongoing for some time.

"It was my uncle who captured Sir Varonil and my uncle who threatens my peasantry. He is in there, and if you are going in even though I have told you that Calvorn and Falnis are already rescuing them, then I have every right to come too and help you deal with him. I want him stopped. My uncle has many men and you don't even have twenty. You would hire a mercenary if one were here, and you know that too. I don't need to be a knight to help, and I have more to lose than you if you fail. Which Falnis said you nearly did last time."
This message was last edited by the GM at 10:28, Tue 07 Mar 2023.

"I wouldn't believe everything a varim tells you, Lady Veldorn," Caled replies, his own voice taking on a terse edge. "My men are trained warriors of Carendisal and are far more capable than the rabble hired by your uncle. And more reliable than an over-the-hill Vard agent and a varim assassin, I would wager."

"Sir Larend, who is severely wounded, also told me that," Lyria says pointedly. "And Calvorn said all your knights needed to be rescued. That's two people who are not a varim."
This message was last edited by the GM at 10:55, Tue 07 Mar 2023.

'Over-the-hill Vard agent'? Falnis signs quizzically to Calvorn, raising an eyebrow.

The party come into view of the hollow in time to see poor Larend, who stands beside Caled in the group of the dozen or so warriors who fill the hollow, running a hand through his hair sheepishly as he avoids the accusing glare directed at him by Caled.

"A lot of people seem to tell you things, Lady Veldorn," Caled replies at length, releasing Larend from his icy gaze. "The next time I see Calvorn, I will suggest to him that he would do well to-"

"Oh?" says Calvorn as he strides into the hollow, the others in toe. "What will you suggest that this 'over-the-hill Vard agent' would do well to do?"

It is Caled's turn to look uncomfortable as he turns in surprise, opening his mouth, then closing it. His eyes then widen as he spots Tyronius and Marabir.

"Your Highness," he says swiftly, bowing respectfully as the men about him do the same.

"Sir Varonil!" Lyria says, clearly more concerned about him than she is about Prince Tyronius, whom she clearly assumes Caled is addressing.

"Lady Veldorn," Marabir seems pleased to be the one meriting the excitement and attention among the new arrivals. "I had some sort of healing potion," he adds, apparently feeling an explanation is required for his darkened veins even though none has been asked for, "I will return to normal in a few hours I am told."
This message was last edited by the player at 11:39, Tue 07 Mar 2023.

"By which time, we had best be far from here," Calvorn says pointedly, his tone once again suggesting Marabir's priorities are misplaced. "It won't be long before our enemies are out looking for us, indeed, I am surprised the alarm has not already been sounded. We must get to safety as swiftly as possible. I believe Lord Ravalor's fortress is our best bet?"

This question appears to be directed at Tyronius.

Tyronius hesitates a moment, in silent debate.

"There is a matter I must attend to at the Helard Woods," he says at length.

"The Helard Woods?" repeats Calvorn blankly. "Sire, we are in considerable peril at present."

"I am aware," Tyronius replies coolly, before addressing his men. "Caled, Larend, you will accompany us to the Helard Woods. Vandal, take the remaining men and ride hard for Ravalor's fortress. We will travel on foot, and should escape the notice of anyone pursuing us as they follow the hoofmarks. Once you reach him, tell Ravalor to meet us with spare horses at the ranger's cabin in the woods."

As Vandal nods and begins directing the men, Calvorn frowns, glancing furtively back up the hill in the direction of Calarn.

"Might I inquire what matter it is that calls you to the Helard Woods so urgently?" he asks impatiently.

Tyronius gestures for Marabir to do the explaining as he moves over to converse with Caled.

"Pardon me, my lady," Marabir gives Lyria a polite bow as he turns to Calvorn. "I would prefer not to speak about this too openly," he says with a dark glance at Falnis, "but there is someone I must meet with in the woods tomorrow at dusk. It is of the utmost importance."

Lyria sends Tyonius a judgmental look.

"Your Highness, your knight is wounded. I am not sure why you want to go to that forest, but surely you can take one with you who was not recently cut by a sword," Lyria says tartly.

Falnis, who seems to be enjoying all this, leans idly against a tree, making no effort to contribute or be useful in any way.

"It is precisely because he is wounded that he must come with us," Tyronius responds briskly as he appropriates Caled's sword, strapping the knights' sheath to his side as Caled signals for an unfortunate man-at-arms to give him his blade in turn. "With his injuries he cannot outride your uncle's mercenaries to Ravalor's fortress. Now, I suggest you find somewhere to remain hidden until we are able to deal with your uncle. Is there a farmhouse nearby or somewhere you can stay?"

"I will not endanger any farmers by staying with them when I know my uncle will not hesitate to have their crops raised to the ground," Lyria says, in the tone of someone who thinks Tyronius is slightly out of touch with how things work for the non-royals of Thane. "I will ride with your knights to Lord Ravalor. I am perfectly capable of keeping up. My brother, however..." her gaze softens slightly, and she hesitates, looking to Sir Varonil.

"Oh Camendur," Aerendir mutters to no one in particular.

Marabir ignores Aerendir.

"Lady Veldorn must come with us," he says firmly to his brother. "The boy most certainly cannot outride our pursuers and we can hardly have her wandering the countryside unprotected while her uncle is hunting her."

"Sire, surely you cannot be thinking of allowing her to join us?" Caled says quickly to Tyronius, in a tone which suggests he would rather face Galnor's entire army than 24 hours with Lyria.

"Gentlemanly though your offer is," Lyria says, her gaze and tone making it clear that she's not talking about Caled, "dealing with my uncle must be my priority. It is only that Erald cannot keep up. If you are able to keep my brother safe while I do, I would be most grateful."

If Marabir isn't quite as enthused about the prospect of looking after a six year old rather than travelling in the company of Lady Veldorn, he is polite enough not to voice this thought.

"Ah," he says delicately, before frowning. "I can certainly see that your brother is kept safe, however are you sure you can ride all the way to Ravalor's fortress? It will be a hard ride and as it will likely be the horses that your uncle will be tracking, that will place you in the most danger."
This message was last edited by the player at 21:46, Tue 07 Mar 2023.

"I am. My father--" a hint of sadness, swiftly buried by determination flickers across her face-- "taught me to ride. For many years, I was the only child he had. I must do this. Lord Ravalor might not have had time for my concerns alone, but with knights, he must surely listen. I am not going to get justice by hiding, and each day that I delay is another day my uncle harasses my farmers and burns homes to the ground."

Marabir still does not seem pleased by the prospect, but he nods slowly.

"Very well, My Lady, but do be care-" he breaks off as there is a faint shout from somewhere in the distance.

Calvorn glances sharply around, before hurrying back out of the hollow and ascending the hill to peer back down towards Calarn. After a moment he comes hurrying back down to rejoin them.

"Well, it's taken them long enough, but they've realised you're gone," he says hastily. "If your knights and the lady are to ride to Ravalor's they'd best do so swiftly, and take all the horses. Those of us who are staying will need to move deeper into the forest before our enemies reach us."

Vandal, has already swung into his saddle, along with the rest of Tyronius' men, save Caled and Larend. The warrior eyes Lyria with a degree of skepticism as she mounts up alongside them, but his questioning glance is met by a curt nod from Tyronius.

"Go," says the prince, as the riders begin to gallop from the hollow. "Let's move," he adds to everyone else as he begins to jog down through the trees, keeping an eye out for a suitable place to hide.

Aerendir seems to feel he has his work cut out for him hiding people's footprints and removing the evidence snapped twigs and branches without one more human contributing to this, but he also seems to realize now is not the time to complain about this.

OOC: Aerendir rolled 32. Survival Check to hide tracks. (Skill Mastery.)

"I shall travel with you, Sire," bows Caln as he follows after Tyronius into the woods.

"Excellent, you can look after the boy," Marabir calls to him, sparing a glance to ensure Lyria is out of earshot. "Let's go," he adds with grim smile to Erald as he gestures for the boy to follow them into the woods.

Caln's expression suggests this isn't quite what he had in mind, however he does not argue, merely giving Erald a grim pat on the shoulder.

"All right lad, let's see if we can keep you alive."

"Why is he blue?" Erald says, nevertheless trustingly allowing these knights (whom Erald has read about in story books) to lead him off. (Some might argue this does much to explain how easily Erald was in fact kidnapped in the first place.)
This message was last updated by the GM at 22:43, Tue 07 Mar 2023.

"No idea," Caln replies unhelpfully. "Son of a cur-" he mutters a moment later as he stumbles on a jutting tree root, breaking off with an awkward cough and a sidelong glance at Erald.

Erald bites his lip, and determinedly steps over the root himself.

"Now seems as good a time as any to mention that you three owe me 19,000 carens' worth of poisons, since it appears you not only stole mine but managed to misplace them," Falnis says to both princes and Aerendir, apropos of nothing.

"I can think of a lot of times which are significantly better than this one," Calvorn replies tersely as he assists Aerendir in mitigating the damage done to the forest by the princes and knights' passing.

OOC: Calvorn Areldan rolled 27. Survival Check.

The last of the horses disappear into the mist as they thunder over the hill, keeping to the trees as the gallop around the town of Calarn, heading north towards Ravalor's fortress. The gates of the town have already been thrown open as fifty odd riders charge after them, torches in hand with Galnor in the lead. Several riders break off from the pack, cantering their mounts up the hill through the mist in the direction of where they judge Tyronius' men to have appeared from. They reach the top of the hillock, peering down into the fog and gloom of the hollow and the trees beyond.

OOC: Caladormist rolled 13. Spot Check.
This message was last edited by the GM at 01:54, Wed 08 Mar 2023.

Pushing until the very last moment to hide the tracks of the princes, Calvorn narrowly darts behind the trunk of a nearby tree, angling himself so as not to be visible to any of the riders. He narrows his eyes, holding his breath as he waits.

OOC: Calvorn Areldan rolled 26. Hide Check.

The party are very fortunate for the mist and the gloom which obscures their location. Marabir crouches behind a boulder which does a poor job of concealing him and does not cover his legs or back, while Tyronius, not having found a suitable hiding spot as the riders appear over the hill, is forced to simply stand very still in the gloom with no cover at all. Aerendir attempts to hide behind a bush near Marabir, which again little to conceal him. The knights do not fair much better. Caled ducks behind a tree whose trunk is slightly too small to conceal him, while Larend hides behind a spindly bush. Caln seems to do slightly better, ducking behind a broken tree trunk and motioning for Erald to remain still.

OOC: Marabir Carendil rolled 10. Hide Check.
Tyronius Carendil rolled 2. Hide Check.
Aerendir rolled 9. Hide check.
Caled Aravor rolled 12. Hide Check.
Larend Talrun rolled 5. Hide Check.
Caln Deran rolled 14. Hide Check.
Erald Veldorn rolled 10. Hide Check.

Calvorn may be wincing as he stares silently at all the obviously showing parts of knights and princes, but the riders don't seem to be able to see anything in the gloom, and after a moment one of them gives a grunt.

"There ain't nothin' 'ere."

"Galnor told us ta check the forest," another replies uncomfortably.

"You feel like goin' in there?" the other growls back. "He said to check, and we're checkin', right boys?"

There is a dark murmur of agreement.

"All right, let's go," barks the first speaker once more, as they direct their horses back over the hill and canter into the gloom.

"I take it that 'hide-and-seek' wasn't a game you ever won as a child," Falnis remarks, eying Tyronius' 'hiding place.'

Tyronius ignores Falnis, waiting for the hoof beats to fade before cautiously picking his way back to the others.

"We had best be going. I trust you can direct us through this forest, Calvorn?"

"Indeed, and we shall have a fair distance of open farmland to cross after that," Calvorn replies."The evening is young and the more of the open lands we can cross under cover of darkness, the better."

"So... Which of you was carrying supplies in their pockets or their packs and not their horse's saddlebags?" Aerendir looks between all the knights.

"Now you bring that up," Marabir replies darkly. "Look, we'll find a stream or something for water and as food, we'll just have to do without for half a day."

"My men and I will survive," Tyronius shrugs. "It won't be the first time we've gone without food for a day while on a campaign."

"Wonderful. So I take it that's no one then?" Aerendir says glaring balefully.
This message was last edited by the player at 11:54, Wed 08 Mar 2023.

Caled and Larend do not feel inclined to respond to this question, and so it is that Calvorn begins to lead the way off into the forest, setting as brisk a pace as he feels he can with a child and injured knight in the company.

"So," Falnis falls in step beside Caled easily. "Are you still carrying Tyronius' seal? Also, now seems as good a time as any to mention that child does not currently have shoes, so do drop a warning if there'll be brambles, mm, Calvorn?"
This message was last edited by the player at 12:15, Wed 08 Mar 2023.

Calvorn glances back at Erald with a frown.

"Larend, you may need to find a farmhouse of some kind to hide with the boy once we are out of the forest. That is, if we want to have any chance of making it to the Helard Woods by tomorrow evening."

"Hopefully one that has food," mutters Larend in a tone low enough not to be heard by Tyronius or Caled.

Caled doesn't hear him, his attention focused on Falnis, who he fixed with a dark glance.

"I certainly haven't lost His Highness' seal, if that is what you are implying."
This message was last edited by the player at 12:27, Wed 08 Mar 2023.

"Caled, Caled. I merely thought it might have been inside your saddlebags," Falnis says soothingly. "Since you are-- most sensibly-- carrying it, I will need you to stamp some documents for me. To the tune of, shall we say 24,000 carens, Calvorn?"

Calvorn sighs.

"Aerendir, what poisons did you steal from Lord Falnis?"

"I should think not 24,000 carens worth!" interjects Caled indignantly.
This message had punctuation tweaked by the player at 12:42, Wed 08 Mar 2023.

"Black ones," Aerendir says unhelpfully.

"Or more precisely, black lotus extract, Calvorn. Four vials of it, thirteen of knockout poison, and a further six vials of exceptionally potent colossal spider venom."

"A lot of poisons for a simple hunter," grunts Caln darkly.

"You poisons are not misplaced," Tyronius asserts firmly as they walk. "They are with my sword and other equipment, which I have every intention of reclaiming. You will have them back soon enough."

"Not to mention my sword," Marabir adds in a tone that suggests this is a significantly more valuable item than Tyronius' weapon.

"It's not as if the deer and boars of Thane are kind enough to get within critical striking distance. One does occasionally wish to take shortcuts," Falnis brushes off Caln's insinuation easily. "And very well. If you restore my poisons before we part ways, I will not bill you for them. If you do not, then you will pay me for them. Agreed?"
This message was last edited by the GM at 00:11, Thu 09 Mar 2023.

"Your potions will indeed be restored to you," Tyronius responds. "There will be no need for any alternative arrangements."

"There is the matter of 4,000 carens which I did promise Lord Falnis in return for his services for the next 48 hours," Calvorn informs Tyronius delicately.

"Did you now?" Tyronius responds with a reproving glance at the ranger.

"He is effective, whatever else you may say about him," Calvorn continues. "And it seems pertinent to keep him around until we are safely at Ravalor's."

"Hmm," Tyronius replies noncommittally.

Falnis surveys Tyronius back coolly for a moment, before shrugging lightly.

"Very well. I am not one to waste time on lost causes. Lord Ravalor is not known to like varim, so I trust you'll understand that I won't be keeping you company on your return to his estate. I doubt that will be an issue, however, for the 48-hour period Calvorn has hired me, since we will barely have time to get to that forest in 48 hours, much less return in them. If you aren't lying, you can drop my poisons off at the Lady Veldorn's estate when you retrieve them. I'm sure she will have no issues holding onto them for me, or any issue with my visiting her estate. Should you fail to retrieve them, I'm sure you will find a convenient excuse for why I don't need to be compensated for theft. Our rulers would certainly do the same to your nobles were they in your shoes."
This message was last edited by the player at 03:34, Thu 09 Mar 2023.

"They shall be delivered to the Veldorn estate if need be," Tyronius nods, seeming to feel Falnis has paid Ravalor a compliment.

"Wonderful."
This message was lightly edited by the GM at 06:39, Thu 09 Mar 2023.

"We must reach the woods in less than 24 hours," Marabir says firmly. "Tomorrow evening is when I must meet my contact."

"So you have told us," Calvorn says with a hint of impatience.

Falnis sighs heavily.

"Very well. Since we all know there's only one person slowing us down in this party..."

Gracefully, Falnis drops back a bit to join Caln.

"Are you going to carry his Lordship or am I?"

Caln doesn't seem overly keen on the idea of carrying Erald, but he seems even less impressed by the idea of a varim carrying him.

"Very well," he grunts, stopping to hoist the boy onto his shoulders. "Just try not to fall off or hit your head on a branch."

Regardless of Caln's levels of enthusiasm, Falnis' suggestion certainly has the desired effect of speeding up the procession, as they begin to set a brisk pace through the forest, with Calvorn skilfully directing them along the least overgrown paths through the trees.
This message was last updated by the GM at 11:36, Thu 09 Mar 2023.

Aerendir's own efforts seem to be more directed at spotting anything that's growing at this time of year that's actually edible uncooked.

"You seem unusually well acquainted with the ways of the varim," Tyronius remarks to Calvorn as they walk.

"Some of their ways, yes," Calvorn agrees. "I spent a year in Mereldinor, in my younger days, serving as part of the security detail of the Thanian ambassador."

"My condolences," Caled interjects darkly from behind the pair.

"The varim aren't all that bad," Calvorn shrugs. "I mean, they have no concept of honour or loyalty, but they can be very reliable as long as they are being paid or see a way to benefit by working with you. Or if they find you amusing. Varim are, as a rule, rather bored. When we were in Mereldinor some of their nobles used to play a game equivalent to a shell game with us agents, where they would have an amethyst beneath one bowl, a stone beneath another and a vashzari beneath a third-"

"A what?" Tyronius interrupts, frowning.

"A vashzari," Calvorn repeats. "It's a creature similar to a scorpion which resides in some of the caverns beneath Mereldinor. Its venom is quite deadly. Anyway, some of the agents were quite skilled at it. Aldaran held the record of something like eighty four amethysts, I believe. Anyway, those games came to an end when poor Delrand got himself stung and died, almost creating an interregional incident. The ambassador and his detail were switched shortly thereafter. Watch that root there, your highness."

"I see," Tyronius replies dryly as he carefully steps over the large, jutting root in the gloom. A few seconds later there is a grunt and curse muttered by Marabir behind him.

"And to think certain Thanians were rude enough to imply we invented the game to get rid of you humans on purpose," Falnis tsks softly.

"Indeed," Calvorn replies, not quite succeeding in suppressing a wry smile.

"You lot probably did invent it on purpose," Aerendir says critically, poking at some fungi as they walk past a patch growing on the side of a tree.

"Precisely," agrees Marabir, limping slightly.

"Do watch your footing, won't you, while you are busy insulting us, mm? I'm not sure Aerendir's back would survive it if he ended up needing to carry you as well to meet this deadline of yours. I'm not even sure your brother's would."

"I'm fine," says Marabir dismissively as he continues to keep pace with the others.

The party make their way silently for some time through the forest, or at least without speaking. There is plenty of twig snapping and leaf rustling from the knights and warriors in the procession. Aerendir succeeds in finding several specimens fungi which he deems edible, though the rest of the party to not seem to share this assessment. Calvorn directs them along the outskirts of the forest, attempting to remain deep enough to avoid being spotted by prying eyes, but not so deep that their path becomes impassably blocked by roots, branches and brambles.

"It is at times like these that I wouldn't mind having Nod around to enliven our spirits with a ballad," Marabir remarks after they have travelled for perhaps an hour or so. "I hope he is all right and managed to elude our captors."
This message was last edited by the player at 03:38, Fri 10 Mar 2023.

"Yes, a bard playing music is precisely what we need when we are trying to remain undetected," Tyronius replies dryly.

"Are you imagining one would make more noise than you are, Your Highness?" Falnis says, as yet another stick snaps beneath Tyronius' boots with an echoing crack.
This message was last edited by the player at 04:37, Fri 10 Mar 2023.

Tyronius doesn't grace this comment with a response, though Falnis thinks he catches Calvorn suppressing another smirk.

They walk for another hour or so, by which time it is nearly midnight. The cold, damp mist clings to the air about them, and their clothes are soaked with sweat and dew.

"How much longer until we come to the edge of this forest?" Marabir enquires of Calvorn.

"Still another five or six miles," Calvorn replies. "But we will want to cross as much of the farmland beyond as possible while we have the cover of darkness."

As if determined to make life as hard as possible for Marabir, Erald has begun shivering miserably.

OOC: Erald Veldorn rolled 8.  Fort save vs cold.

"Calvorn, the boy is shivering," Marabir reproves the ranger. "Lend him your cloak, would you?"

He seems to feel that he has more chance of coercing the ranger rather than Falnis, the only other member of the party wearing a cloak.

Calvorn glances irritably at Marabir, but seems to agree that Erald needs something to keep him warm, and dutifully removes his cloak and tosses it to Caln, who wraps it about the boy.

"He might find doing some walking on his own two feet warns him up," pants Caln, who is himself sweating quite profusely.

Falnis snorts.

Erald, possibly used to being spoiled, seems to feel this is a bad deal, and grips Caln's neck a bit tighter.

Marabir seems glad that he made the sensible decision of not carrying the child himself.

They continue on for another couple of hours. Every so often they hear a rustling in the bushes about them, and the more keen-sighted in the party are able to make out a squirrel or fox peering at them or scurrying off through the gloom. At one point and owl on a nearby tree gives a hoot which startles Caln and causes Caled to half draw his sword, and once or twice they hear the sound of wolves howling in the distance. However these seem content to steer clear of the passing warriors, and they encounter no resistance in their journey. At length the trees begin to thin and the ground becomes more even as they reach the edge of the forest and into the open farmlands that lie between the Senth Forest and the Helard Woods.

"How much further are we planning to travel tonight?" inquires Caled wearily, stifling a yawn.

"Indeed," Caln seconds with a wince as he adjusts Erald's position slightly on his back.

"We do not rest until dawn," Calvorn asserts dampeningly. "We must cover as much of these farmlands as possible while we have the cover of darkness."

"Surely the peasants of these lands are not all spies for Galnor," Caled counters sullenly as he nevertheless continues to trudge on.

"I don't know who we can and cannot trust," Calvorn shrugs. "But I am certainly not taking any chances."

If Caln is having any second thoughts about his volunteering to accompany Tyronius, he does not voice these as he resolutely marches on.

The party make their way across a couple of fields in the mist and gloom, arriving at length on a wide, muddy road, which Calvorn keeps to the left of, walking along the wet, springy grass. Every so often a tree or row of bushes looms out of the fog before them, and once or twice a narrow track leads off from the main road. They encounter no one along the road, and the lands about them are quiet and still as they pass. Even the princes' booted feet make little noise as they pad along the soft turf.

Aerendir, bringing up the rear, seems to have his hands full with hiding everyone's tracks-- though not too busy to keep an eye out for anything growing around here that is potentially edible.

OOC: Aerendir rolled 32. Survival check to hide tracks. Taking 10. (Skill Mastery)
This message was last edited by the player at 03:52, Sat 11 Mar 2023.

Most of the fields they pass appear to be cattle fields, and do not contain anything that can be readily plucked and eaten. Occasionally through the mist they are able to make out cows or sheep which huddle beneath trees or beside the wooden fence that separates them from the road. These watch the party pass by warily and pay them little heed. At length the sound of running water reaches their ears through the gloom and a few moments later a wooden footbridge comes into view, beneath which a shallow brook passes by.
This message was last edited by the GM at 06:07, Sat 11 Mar 2023.

"Water at last," Caln gasps hoarsely as he stiffly places Erald down and begins to clamber down the embankment to the stream.

"With the cattle all around who knows what is in that water," Caled sniffs, unmoving as he watches the guard captain. "I am certainly not that desperate for a drink."
This message was last edited by the player at 10:45, Sat 11 Mar 2023.

"Begging your pardon, my lord, but you haven't been lugging around a young boy on your back for the last six hours," Caln grunts back as he reaches the stream and crouches beside it.

Erald’s lip wobbles.

“I would offer to share my entirely sanitary water skin, but I’m sure none of you are interested in a varim’s supplies,” Falnis says.

"We aren't," Caln agrees with a look that suggests he would trust water from a muddy puddle ahead of that offered by a varim.
This message was last edited by the player at 10:41, Sat 11 Mar 2023.

Larend, who stands at the rear of the procession looking pale and clammy with a hand pressed to his side, looks as though he wouldn't mind taking a few mouthfuls of sanitary water from a varim right now. But with a glance at Tyronius and Caled he seems to think better of vocalising this treasonous thought.
This message was last edited by the player at 07:28, Sat 11 Mar 2023.

Upon actually reaching the brook, Caln wrinkles his nose, frowning dubiously at the murky water passing by before him.

"That's right, that isn't a log floating there..." Calvorn observes ominously from where he stands on the bridge.

This seems to be enough to convince Caln that perhaps this wasn't such a good idea after all. With a dark glance at the would-be log, he turns and begins to clamber up the embankment once more.

"Still not interested," he grunts to Falnis as he passes and hoists Erald onto his back once more.

"You government is paying me 4,000 carens to work with you lot, Caln," Falnis says, not without amusement as Caln backs away from what is certainly contaminated water. "Or I assume they will be because I doubt very much that Calvorn has that kind of budget. Personally, I think it's far too late to be sneering at my water simply because it is mine, but the choice is, of course, yours. Larend?" Falnis smiles at him. "Would you care to step up to do the noble job of being the taster and check my water for poison?"

Larend glances longingly at the water skin, before glancing questioningly, or more accurately, hopefully, at Caled and Tyronius.

Caled narrows his eyes, scowling at Falnis and Larend, but Tyronius merely looks grim as he considers his knight's condition. His gaze turns appraising as he glances at Falnis, but at length he gives a nod.

"Very well," he allows.
This message was last edited by the player at 12:47, Sat 11 Mar 2023.

Larend gratefully takes hold of the water skin and gulps down enough that he would most certainly be dead if it were poisoned. He then passes the considerably lighter skin back to Falnis, looking visibly refreshed as he pants for a moment before giving a nod.

"Seems all right," he asserts after a moment.

"Anyone else?" Falnis checks, swinging the water skin temptingly back and forth on its rope.

Caln eyes Larend with more than a little envy, but his stubbornness outweighs his thirst, and he does not take the proffered drink. Caled also scowls at Falnis, while Marabir declines with a polite but bland smile and Tyronius asserts that he is fine.

"Lovely," says Calvorn after what he seems to feel is an appropriate time for the offer to be taken up should one of the others so desire. "Perhaps we can press on?"

"I think so," Aerendir says sourly. "The sooner we get there, the sooner we can get back to a decent inn."

"Quite so," agrees Marabir with feeling.

The party set off once more, making good time as they continue along the side of the road. Another couple of hours pass, as at length the first light of dawn begins to creep through the mist about them. Calvorn finally calls them to a halt shortly afterwards, as he directs them to a dilapidated looking barn on a hill nearby.

"We have another ten to fifteen miles to travel before we reach the woods, by my estimate," the ranger informs the others. "However now seems as good a time as any to take a rest."

"About time," Caled yawns as he staggers up the grassy hill behind Tyronius and the ranger.

Aerendir, not looking particularly tired from a mere 20-mile walk through rough terrain, seems to feel some security checks-- or more accurately, food-location checks-- are in order, and seems intend on reaching it so they can inspect it.
This message was last edited by the player at 13:28, Sat 11 Mar 2023.

Tyronius unsheathes the blade at his side as they reach the barn, which seems to be full of hay. The smell of the wet and rotting grass wafts from the damp hay at the front of the barn, but the majority of the hay is dry and has a sweet, pleasant smell toward the rear of the structure, which is considerably warmer than the air outside. Upon confirming that there is indeed no one inside, Tyronius appears satisfied, sheathing his blade.
This message was last edited by the GM at 19:37, Sat 11 Mar 2023.

"I shall do some scouting. I am sure there is an apple tree or something similar around here somewhere," Calvorn informs Aerendir, correctly interpreting the elf's dissatisfied look.

"I want apples, not an apple tree, and we are not going to find apples in fall," Aerendir sniffs critically, inspecting the hay for rats and mice.

Calvorn considers this for a moment before shrugging.

"Fair enough. Perhaps some tomatoes then? Or carrots?"

"As long as it is edible and untouched by a varim I won't complain," Caled promises as he seats himself beside a bail of hay and begins to remove his armor.

Beside him, Caln doesn't even bother removing his jerkin, placing down Erald before slumping forward and beginning to snore almost immediately. Larend lies himself down with a wince and is soon fast asleep beside him. Marabir seats himself stiffly and stifles a yawn as he attempts to get comfortable against the hay. Tyronius removes his breastplate but not the chainmail shirt beneath as he lies himself down by the far wall, the hilt of his blade resting in his hand as he does so.

Shivering, stomach grumbling, and lips cracked from thirst, Erald huddles himself into Calvorn's cloak, and does his best to be brave like all these other knights are being, and not think about his sister or dinner or the scratches that cover his legs and feet, or the fact that all these knights keep talking about him like he's a burden.

Marabir glances at the boy, and then darkly at the sleeping form of Caln, who he seems to blame for Erald's neglected state. He forces a bracing smile onto his face as he turns back to the boy.

"Don't worry, Erald. You'll soon be safely returned to your sister and able to tell her what a fun journey you've had."

With that he lies back and closes his own eyes and is soon asleep.

OOC: End of Chapter VIII...