The day of the gifting is spent preparing to depart for Kinloch Hold. A month’s supplies are obtained (16 days each way), the covered prisoner tumbrel* is inspected, and enough horses are provided to draw the cart (1), carry provisions (another 2), and carry riders (for those that want to ride).

The next morning, Ser Ragnall leads the party northeasterly under the Imperial Highway, stopping at Dainen’s farm as the sun is starting to disappear beyond the horizon. The old farmer is overjoyed to hear that the horrible affair with the apostate has been settled. He provides you with a good meal and you all spend your last night in a comfortable bed for the next couple of weeks.

The second day finds the group taking the wagon ramp onto the ancient Imperial Highway. Ser Ragnall says they should be able to stay on the elevated stone and marble road for several days, as there are periodic spots for resting near built-in firepits and covered nooks in case the weather turns poorly. Storm clouds roll through across their path by midday, but, thankfully, the rains stay north of the party.

The group reaches a nook with a firepit in the late afternoon, and Ser Ragnall says this is as good a place as any to stop for the night.

OOC: First, who is riding, who is walking, and who is driving/riding the tumbrel (which can carry the driver and one passenger “comfortably”)? At least one person needs to be on the tumbrel, and it can be Ser Ragnall, if you wish. The pace of travel is limited by the tumbrel, so those on foot can easily keep up.

Also, what is your watch schedule? There are enough of you that Ser Ragnall, Erin, Fost, and Wendoll can each take 2 hours, which would allow all of you to get enough sleep to be rested in the morning.

Oh, and just in case I forgot to mention it before, everyone is back at full health after the night’s rest at the farmstead.

* A tumbrel is a two-wheeled cart with high sides that was used to transport supplies or agricultural products (often manure), but also became known for being used to transport prisoners to the guillotine. The one you’re using was purpose-built to ferry prisoners from Lothering to South Reach to face high justice from the arl; as such, it’s covered and padlocked.
This message was last edited by the GM at 17:03, Fri 03 Nov 2023.

Having stepped onto the road he already missed the warm and comfortable bed. Shaking the morning chill off his bones he walks next to the wagon. "You know, I've never learned how to ride. I know its weird since I sort of grew up on a large farm." The rest of the journey he either remains silent or asks questions about Ferelden. Though his prattle is interrupted by the old imperial highway. "Now this is something to look at. The old imperial highway. If I remember my history correctly then it was built in the year 480 in the old Tevinter calendar. It's truly a sign of a glorious empire when even those that follow still use their grand designs."

I'll be walking, perhaps switching sometimes with Ser Ragnall if he's riding on the wagon.

Despite his reputation, or nickname, as 'Longstrider', Fost was actually an accomplished rider and the added mobility from a horse was something he cherished and would not want to miss on the journey ahead.
While he had no particular experience fighting on horse-back and would need to dismount if matters got serious the idea of riding on the cart did not appeal at all unless no other could drive it. Having been raised in a tiny hamlet driving a wagon was one of the skills he had picked up early in his life.
He commented the awkwardness of using longbow or halberd while riding but did not have first hand experience.
"If no one else can drive, I will. Otherwise I'd prefer to ride."

Erin wasn't too picky regarding how to travel, the sense of duty in their mission and the excitement of another trip away from home in such short notice fueled her with the epinephrine of life. Not that she needed it, Erin was a veritable well of endless stamina condensed in a rather small package. "A road is a road, I wonder how it, how to say it... Still exists? After all this time, I am glad it does however, much better than treading on muddy trails."

When it came to stand watch however, she did have her preferences, choosing to go first if at all possible. "Sleeping sits best in one go, rather than little morsels."

When the templar offered to drive the cart even Fost was able to notice that Ser Ragnall would have preferred to ride himself.
Fost winked and grinned as he sat into the saddle.
"We can take shifts ridibg and driving if you want."
"The one who rides takes the middle night shift, though."
"Deal?"
As.long as he could remember he had been a mercenary, and thus was well used to nightly watches. The middle watch was worse for interrupted sleep but morning was the worst in his opinion as it meant a long day and restlessness kicked in as the sun set slowly.
So offering this deal was really at no cost to him.

Just listening to Fost talking about keeping watch makes Tyrus shudder. He never liked standing watch and never had to do so before traveling to Ferelden. Walking next to the wagon he finds himself watching the beautiful Mabari hound. Truly one of the best creations of the old Tevinter Imperium.