"You will give the poor man a stroke if you are not careful," Falnis says, with an amused look back at the man-at-arms' furious face.

He does not slow his horse either.

The man-at-arms half raises a hand as he starts after the pair, then halts, watching the pair as they gallop off down the road. At length he lets the hand fall resignedly to his side.

"Typical," he mutters darkly.

Calvorn makes no effort to converse with Falnis as the gallop along the road. He does not slow his horse until they reach the road which leads north from Lastorn to Calarn. He reigns the mount to a trot as he peers down at the tracks along the path. With a satisfied nod he sets off at a canter down the road. By this time the sun has risen completely over the foothills to the east to shine down brightly on what most would consider a brilliant morning. Birds chirp in the trees about the road as the pair make their way along. They meet no one as they ride along the road, and within an hour they have reached the Senth Forest.

OOC: Calvorn Areldan rolled 36 using 1d20+18. Survival.
This message was last edited by the GM at 06:10, Tue 09 Apr 2019.

"They appear to have made good time, despite the wagon," Calvorn remarks as he glances grimly down at the track, "I do not envy Prince Marabir his journey."

Falnis pulls his hood up to shield his face a bit more comfortably.

"You don't? I find I envy him more with each passing hour. Would that we could all dream in a wagon while being fussed over by devoted attendants instead of staying up for two days straight. You never did mention, by the way, and delicacy forbade me to ask: How did our 'finest swordsman in Thane' land himself in that wagon so conviniently?"

OOC: Falnis is dazzled. (-1 Spot, search, attack).
This message was last edited by the player at 17:06, Sat 11 Jan 2020.

Calvorn does not seem inclined to divulge the specifics of Marabir's capture, and proceeds to canter off into the forest. The forest about them seems almost unaware of the grim happenings to which it has been privy this morning. The sun shines brightly through the leaves overhead, casting a hazy green-gold light across the path. Birds continue to chirp cheerfully and bees buzz lazily about clumps of wild daisies as the pair pass. (Though they are occasionally fried by Falnis' flames when they buzz too close to the sleep-deprived varim).

It is not until just before midday, shortly after the last of the forest trees have given way to lush, rolling farmlands behind which the shadow of Calarn looms in the distance that Calvorn calls a halt once more.
This message was last edited by the GM at 01:55, Sun 12 Jan 2020.

"I feel this is as good a time to mention as any that Caled and myself may have murdered half a dozen or so of Galnor's men here not twenty four hours ago, and antagonised a tavern of what it would be generous to term as mercenaries," Falnis remarks, eyes following the wagon tracks towards the town.
This message was last edited by the GM at 01:53, Fri 31 Dec 2021.

This does not appear to surprise Calvorn, who merely nods thoughtfully as they continue to canter down the road through the fields.

"No sign of the wagon even halting. Galnor must have ridden hard all the way to Calarn. He is rightfully scared of Carendil retribution."
This message was last edited by the player at 01:54, Fri 31 Dec 2021.

Falnis gives a noncommittal 'hmm'.

"Would one be too optimistic if one assumed a responsible Vard agent like yourself had a plan?"
This message was last edited by the player at 04:36, Fri 31 Dec 2021.

“The plan,” says Calvorn grimly, “Is to scout out the town. If we locate the parts of the wall which are least guarded we should be able to-”

He breaks off, reining in his mount as he gestures to a rocky outcrop above the road a mile or so ahead, upon which they are able to make out a figure crouched low.

“It seems the road is being watched.”

OOC: Calvorn Areldon rolled 27 using 1d20+15. Spot.
This message was last edited by the player at 04:32, Sun 12 Jan 2020.

"You would seem to be right," Falnis agrees, also reigning in his steed next to Calvorn. "And if we can see him, I wager that he can also see us."

Falnis rests a hand on his Thanian light crossbow, and eyes the croucher to see if they are friend or foe.

OOC: Dalmar Argant rolled 39 using 1d20+25.  Spot check.
This message was last edited by the player at 04:52, Sun 12 Jan 2020.

Falnis' elven eyes are keener than Calvorn's, and as the crouching figure turns his head slightly, the varim is able to make out the familiar features of Larend. The knight's attention appears to be on the town ahead, and as such he does not appear to have noticed the pair of riders at present.

OOC: Larend Talrun rolled 16 using 1d20+1. Spot.

"It's Caled's friend," Falnis observes aloud, audibly relaxing and taking his hand off his crossbow. "Now that would have been irony, if we had shot him. I take it back-- assuredly if that is Larend we have not been spotted."
This message was last edited by the player at 04:38, Fri 31 Dec 2021.

Fortunately for Falnis, Larend's hearing is no better than his eyesight, and he continues to peer down at the town of Calarn, oblivious to the unflattering criticism of his skills of observation.

Calvorn seems to share Falnis' assessment, as he makes to effort to rebuke or reprove the varim.

"Caled's men, eh? Well, I suppose we had best make contact with them and find out what we can about the predicament of Their Highnesses."

He dismounts as he speaks, tethering it behind a nearby tree before beginning to pick his way up the slope toward Larend.

OOC: Calvorn Areldan rolled 33 using 1d20+17. Hide.
Calvorn Areldan rolled 21 using 1d20+17. Move Silently.
This message was last edited by the player at 02:36, Mon 13 Jan 2020.

Falnis follows suit, albeit significantly more silently.

The ranger still moves silently enough to avoid being detected by Larend, who does not so much as glance around as the pair climb the rocky slope. Upon reaching the knight's position, the newcomers are able to make out four horses tethered in a small hollow below, well concealed by a bunch of thick, leafy bushes about it.
This message was last edited by the GM at 23:01, Sun 05 Mar 2023.

Satisfied that the coast is clear, Calvorn steps out from behind a boulder near to Larend's position.

"Larend," he says in a low voice, "Have you seen Prince Marabir or Prince Tyronius?"

The startled Larend swings around in a flash, snatching up his blade from the rocks beside him to raise it threateningly. He relaxed with a sigh of relief upon recognising Calvorn. He sheepishly lowers the blade a moment later.

"Calvorn," he says in bewilderment, wincing as he attempts to push himself up using his bandaged arm, "How did you get here?"

"I rode," replies Calvorn dryly, glancing at the knight's shoulder, "What happened to you?"
This message was last edited by the player at 04:04, Mon 13 Jan 2020.

"Caled and I had a run in with a couple of mercenaries," he says grimly, "They were well trained. I doubt either of us would have made it out at all if not for that varim friend of Lady Veldorn's. Though don't tell Caled I said that."

Falnis shifts smugly in the shadows, clearly enjoying the praise.
This message was last edited by the player at 04:38, Fri 31 Dec 2021.

"Good for him," Calvorn says dismissively, purposefully avoiding glancing at the shadows behind him, "Now, have you or have you not seen Their Highnesses pass this way?"

"Right, Their Highnesses," says Larend nodding, "They passed by not half an hour ago. Prince Tyronius and what I took to be Prince Marabir in a wagon. Lord Aerendir was certainly crouched beside someone. I couldn't make out the features of their captors, however there were a lot of them. Around fifty I would guess. I fear it will take a miracle to rescue them."
This message was last edited by the player at 11:35, Mon 06 Mar 2023.

"Indeed," Calvorn replies dismissively, "Has Caled returned yet?"
This message was last edited by the player at 01:57, Fri 31 Dec 2021.