"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.