Chepzur rearranges his equipment, brisks both his and the merchant's horse, places his equipment on the merchant's horse, saddles up on his horse, and awaits everyone else.

When the merchant's son notices that a couple horses will be unused, he draws out a length of rope, hitching the two extra horses to his own.  "Never know when you need a spare," he comments.  When everyone has secured their gear and are mounted, he climbs onto his own mount.  "No sense delaying; the sooner we get moving, the sooner we'll be there."
   As the entourage reaches the point where the High Road touches the city's central market, a wide-shouldered dwarf comes jogging out into the middle of traffic, pushing people left and right along the way.  As he emerges from the crowd, the half-orc looks down in surprise.  "Aoth, I didn't expect you to see me off!  I'd figured your customers would be keeping you busy."
   "Aye, they are," the dwarf replies, "but I had somethin' for you to take with ya."  He holds out a long wooden box, which Rihen accepts.  "One o' them's for you to keep, the other's for my brother Kavik when you get to Nesmé."  Inside the case are two finely-crafted short swords.
   Rihen sets the case into a saddlebag.  "Don't worry, Aoth, we'll get there and back safely."
   "Don't forget to stop at the inns along the way, you don't want to go too long without drinking.  As me pa always said, 'May the road rise to meet yer face.'  Be seein' ya!"  Aoth scrambles back into the midst of the crowd, his path to the market square made visible by the sudden displacement of taller folk in his way.
   The half-orc spurs his mount, and before long the shops and guildhalls give way to the manor houses and villas of Waterdeep's nobility.  Foot-traffic clears considerably, allowing better time toward the northern gate, as well as a quieter ride.  Before long, the gatehouse comes into view; most of the traffic coming through the gate is inbound, so it takes a few minutes to clear a path wide enough to allow everyone out.

As the group exits the gate, Chepzur turns to the group at the sudden whim of a thought. "If for some reason I start galloping or I stop my horse and ready for a fight, follow my lead." As he turns back and continues, he--for no reason at all--finds hmself riding next to Kalmir.

Damion nods to the strange young man that has signed on as their guide. As the group gallops through town Damion manuevers his horse to the back of the pack.

Kalmir steps up his horse and rides near to the front of the caravan.

Unsure of where the others would want her, the diminutive and delicate elf guides her horse to the middle of everyone, knowing that she of all of them was the least protected.  Authiel only hoped that nobody would be upset with her for taking the safest position amidst the group.

Iodaem stayed close to Authiel, but kept a hand close to his great, curved blade, just in case anything were to happen.  He also reached for a wand of his, one that he had never used before, but knew would help him pack more of a punch if that were to be needed soon. . .

The merchant's son appraises the group's placement around him, then sets the horses to a leisurely canter.  As the group passes next to the line formed at the gate, a merchant offers them a sack filled with bread, cheese, fresh meat, and a bottle of Arabellan Dry.  The half-orc checks the bottle, hands over some coin, and the entourage moves on.
   "Looks like we're set for lunch.  Let's see how close we can get to Rassalantar before we stop to eat."

[Check the XP notice, this week's awards are posted.  Be sure to fix the 'last update' date on your character sheets.]

As the entourage starts moving, Chepzur seems to be noticeably happy, may it be due to the cool morning breeze, the start of a new adventure, or thoughts of elsewhere, Chepzur starts a light conversation with anyone in general. "Ah, dreary Rassalantar, home of the Sleeping Dragon Inn." Chepzur's tone changes from light and happy to a darker, heavier tone. "Has anyone else ever stayed the night at this inn? For those who have not been to Rassalantar, the Sleeping Dragon Inn is one of the few unforgettable places to visit." His speech slows for this last portion. "For many, this inn can be a better place to stay at opposed to other certain locations situated near this hamlet." For anyone who was carefully observing Chepzur, he/she would have seen Chepzur lightly touch his rapier by the end of his speaking.
This message was last edited by the player at 04:39, Sat 28 July 2007.

"It sounds as though you have had a little experience with those other places." Damion said from a bit down the line.

Authiel rode quietly along, a part of the group and yet so alone.  Often she could be caught wiping away a stray tear that she simply had not the will to stop as her heart ached for her dead sister.  She fought her despair valiantly, however, and did not succumb to the deep depression that threatened to overwhelm her.  Barely.  Authiel felt so angry, so lost.  All at the same time.  Silently she vowed to seek revenge on all those who had killed her sister.  She would strike them down with her powerful, destructive magic.  She would ruin everything those evil, wretched excuses for people.  Even if it killed her.  Thus, while they rode along with the others talking, Authiel alternated between her sorrow and her anger, her tears and her fingers dancing in the air as she practiced the delicate movements that would enable her to cast dangerous balls of fire, loops of electricity, and orbs of acid that would tear a hole and pump acid into an unsuspecting person's body.

Kalmir shook his head in response to Chepzur's query, Kalmir not know of that Inn. The big barbarian continued to ride bhoping to see battle.

Iodaem seemed for all intents and purposes as if he hadn't heard any talks of inns, and he didn't speak a word on it.  He had never been anywhere close to here before, so even if he had heard it, it was likely he would have stayed quiet - he usually was rather quiet, after all.  Instead, he kept glancing over at Authiel, wishing that there was some way he could comfort her, like she deserved to be.  Just the fact that she was still there, still going on with their mission, however, spoke a great deal about her character, he thought.  She was strong, she was a fighter.  And, again, he was reminded of her sister, whom he had tried to save...  He would have to talk more to Authiel, Iodaem decided, though in private.  Perhaps when they were to rest for the night, whenever that would be.

"When one is being chased by henchmen, it would be very smart to know the surroundings of local areas on the main road, and sometimes off of the main road. Aye, I was chased by henchmen and so I decided to take the side road and follow it to where we are going. It's good for a water stop, but I would never want to live there. I ended up losing the henchmen, because I knew from rumors of a fort in ruins. It was a place for me to hide. I don't plan on venturing there again, unless I am looking for battle or to escape." Chills run down Chepzur's body. Lightning, Chepzur's horse, gives a little whinnie, maybe from the thought of the ruin or just from Chepzur's random movement.

Back at a calmer state, Chepzur responds to Kalmir, "Through rumors the Sleeping Dragon Inn is known for both the owner and of a certain barmaid. And according to rumors, if we were to visit this inn, you might be meeting a dragon in human form. My type of place!"

Chepzur starts automatically whipping out a dagger and placing it back repeatedly. His expression was soft and looking forward. Apparently he has nothing else to add about Rassalantar for now.

Chepzur decides to put his knife away into his belt, then pats his strong horse.

"Well," Chepzur starts out after a bit of ride since last talking, "since this is one of my few times traveling with a group, I'm curious to what's bringing you group of adventurers out of good ol' Waterdeep. Visiting relatives? Starting a business? or just traveling to be bodyguards like you have been hired to do?"

Kalmir just wandering around. Have nowhere go.

"I, much like my friend Kalmir, have gotten the wanderlust. I must be close to my mistress and the only way to do that is to be in the wilds."

Off in her own little word full of heartbreak and no small amount of growing anger, Authiel does not Chepzur's question.  Fighting still against the tears, a few slid down her cheeks despite her willing them away.  Not even aware enough to be embarrassed about being possibly caught crying by the men around her, Authiel just let them go.  How would she share the news of her beloved sister's death to her parents?  They would be crushed beneath the weight of despair, much like Authiel herself was now.

As they rode along Damion saw Authiel crying once again. He could hold out no longer seeing one of his new companions in so much pain. He nudged his horse forward so he rode next to the young elf.
"Excuse me. This may not be my place and I appologize if I over step any boundries but I wanted to ask if there was anything I might do to ease whatever burden you carry." he said, his voice sounding almost father-like.

Looking almost as if the kind words would prove to be her downfall, Authiel smiled gratefully through her tears.  "Thank you," she whispered, "But I do not think there is anything that anybody can do.  I must simply carry on.  And avenge the murder of my beloved sister."  At her last words, words she whispered almost beneath her breath, Authiel's eyes flashed dangerously for just a second before reverting to carry the heartbroken look within them once more.  Then she sadly added aloud, trying to tease herself self-depracatingly, "And maybe have a bit of a good cry or two away away from you big, strong men."
This message was last edited by the player at 19:01, Sun 12 Aug 2007.

Kalmir turned back and looked at Authiel, Damion good protector, Kalmir and Damion not let anything happen to you. No more crying we smash anyone who make Elf Lady cry!

"Kalmir, come to think of it...she couldn't have been including you when she said 'big, strong men.' But I am sure you could do the smashing as you stated." Chepzur smiled the whole time he made that comment. "Just teasing you Kalmir."

Damion offered a warm smile and began falling back in line offering only an, "As you wish."

Iodaem remained quiet for the moment, though he kept close to Authiel, glancing over at her every so often he felt he could, without risking falling off the horse.  The young man was no experienced rider, for sure, and it had been months, now, since he last sat on a strong steed like that one.  Still, he managed just fine, proving to be something of a natural at it, perhaps?  He cared not about that, though - he much preferred walking on his own two legs, and it was them that had carried him for most of his journey across the continent of Faerûn. . .

"Thank you, Damion.  And you as well, Kalmir.  It may not seem like it, but your kindess truly warms my cold heart," Authiel whispered quietly, smiling softly at each of them.  "You too, Iodaem," she added while looking at him.  "You have been wonderful to me.  But I cannot allow my heartbreak to interfere with our mission," she went on a bit louder, firmly resolving to put her sister's death to the side.  At least until the others slept that night.