Residue of Sorrow

The Commandant doesn't interrupt Bryn while he speaks, however lengthy his response may be. Her expression remains neutral during the entire exchange, and so it is difficult to assess what she's thinking as he speaks, even when he reveals Emil's bow and explains its origins, with which she would not have been familiar otherwise.

When he's done, she looks in Arren's direction, who looks at Bryn instead, and declares that he believes him. She intended to ask for Arren's opinion, but he gave it before she could. Commandant Nattensbarn walks over to the side of the carriage, opens the door and places one foot inside, but stops before hoisting herself up. "As before. Sergeant, you steer. Mind the horses' knees going down this mountain, don't follow the road if it's too steep. Lieutenant, sit at the back and keep an eye out in case the bandits change their mind. And you," she doesn't turn around to face anyone, "sit by whichever you're comfortable with. We'll see whether you're a true 'advocate of honesty' as you claimed to be, by the time we reach Pyorre. Now, let's go, before the bandits come asking for our gold again. If you have any other matters you need to discuss, save them for midday break. At least one of us still has work to do."

Before leaving, Arren and Bryn can see some people at the camp sitting to eat their breakfast, but most are already busy tearing it down. It seems they, not unlike the Commandant, are already eager to resume their normal life, or to head for a new beginning with the support of the unexpected payment. It would be some time before any of them are ready to leave, though, and so the soldiers' carriage leaves first.

Although his face was covered on the way to the bandits' camp, Arren at least knows the first direction out of the camp, and from there, merely following a path that the carriage can safely travel directs him down the mountain, leaving very little room for choice. It takes some time, but he'll eventually see the mountain path somewhere below, and from that point onwards, he can confidently steer the horses in the desired direction until he meets the path, and then, westwards, to Pyorre.

It takes some more time before the carriage passes by Lory's Hostelry. It seems that the bandits have taken the crew back eastwards, but as there is still plenty of daylight time, the carriage passes the building without stopping.

At midday, Arren brings the carriage to a halt at some wider spot in the road where the carriage won't block it, and the crew stops briefly to relieve themselves if they need to and eat rations for lunch. The weather is nice, but unfortunately, it's not enough to make the rations any more pleasant than ever. The Commandant, back to her habits, barely eats anything before resuming her work, but she does sit outside with everyone for a few moments, giving anyone a chance to talk to her, if they wish. However, if it seems like a matter that might take a while, she'll ask them to save it for the evening, as she wants to make these stops as short as possible, being as late as they are already.

Once they're finally done with the midday break, the carriage will resume its journey. A few hours later, Bryn will notice a few markings by the side of the road. Inconspicuous to the others, his experience with criminals made him always subconsciously look for such signs (Thieves' Cant). He recognises them as farkers of a border between the turf of two different gangs. In the city where he lived, this was common enough, since one always had to know who got a cut of their earnings after swindling nobles out of their money, and such turfs could span even just one or two blocks, depending on the strength of those who held it. Here, since he had yet to see such markings on their way, Bryn realises the turf is much greater. Of course, there were far fewer people in it, too. In any case, while Bryn knows they now step into the territory of a new gang, he gains no knowledge about them, not even what they call themselves, if they call themselves anything at all.

It is not too long after, probably about an hour, that Arren spots a few objects blocking the road ahead. At first, they seem like logs, or flour bags, perhaps, that might have fallen off a carriage. But as the carriage draws closer, he sees their colour doesn't quite match either of those. The dark red, Arren knows this colour all too well. When the carriage is close enough, a few necrophages scurry or fly away. Arren can by now smell the stench, but at this point, he's also close enough to count four dead bodies lying on the ground. Unfortunately, he is forced to stop the carriage as it can't pass by without running over any of the bodies.

The four people - three men, one woman, all Human - lie on the ground where they died, it seems. Given their seemingly random locations, it doesn't seem like anyone moved them for the sole purpose of blocking the road. They are all dressed in simple clothes, like peasants, but their weapons lay on the ground by them. Collectively, a spear, two daggers and two shortswords. Those that are stained by blood seem to be only stained from the wielder's own blood. It doesn't look like any of them hit their foe. Their wounds - those not created postmortem by the scavengers - are all deep, long gashes, but it seems each was only struck once. One lethal strike, though, deep enough to either kill on the spot or to doom the victim to bleed out quickly, colouring the rocky ground around them in the dark red of blood that is no longer fresh.

Bryn simply stares at the Commandant's back for a moment, then across to the lieutenant and finally to the Sergeant, holding his hands up slightly as if asking is that it?.

He doesn't say anything in that moment, just grabs his stuff and climbs up onto the carriage, in the front next to the Sergeant. Ok, the decision is made. Let's hope none of us regret it.

He watches the camp start to get torn down, and looks out for Radis. If he spots him, or if not using his tent for direction, he will point and whisper so only Radis can hear, "Keep safe, Radis. Perhaps we will cross paths again". He decides not to contact anyone else in the camp.

As they start the journey, he tries to make himself comfortable, happy to be heading towards civilisation but not looking forward to so long sat on the carriage bench. The Sergeant might hear a very quiet groan escape him when they pass Lory's Hostelry, as it signifies the journey will take longer than he had hoped.

When midday comes, he gratefully wanders away to get some privacy to take a comfort break, and then returns and settles down to eat his rations.

"Bryn. My real name is Bryn", he says, just before he takes a bite of the plain trail food.

As they travel through the afternoon, Bryn will remain at the front of the carriage with the Sergeant. It is from there that he spots the signs that they have crossed a territorial border.

"We should be more careful from here on out", he states, risking the wrath of the Commandant. "We are no longer in territory overseen by Nohem and his crew", he explains, but says no more unless questioned about it.

When they come across the bodies on the road, Bryn slowly picks up his crossbow and waits, his eyes scanning the distance for people or more signs and markers. He has no idea of the context of their deaths, the one lethal strike, but he certainly knows they were killed by some people or things that are still out there.

(OOC: A few opportunities for conversation in there, but Bryn will not instigate more of it, preferring to wait until the evening as the Commandant obviously prefers)

Arren doesn't speak much during the journey. With so many things that have happened, it feels more appropriate to turn them over inwardly rather than speaking. It is curious, though, to have the Elf sitting next to him as if nothing had happened at all. 

During the lunch break, Arren considers asking the Commandant what they will say once they reach Pyorre, regarding the fact that they left Tus with a corporal who never made it to the capital. If they are going to see this through, they will need a shared story in case questions are asked. Most probably, that a prisoner impersonated the corporal and then fled. But he decides not to raise it yet. They still have time before reaching Pyorre, and the Commandant has already made it clear that she prefers to leave such matters for the evening.

As he takes small bites of his rations, Arren can't help but think of the moment they'll finally be able to eat a proper meal. He is mid-movement, about to take another bite, when the Elf speaks and gives his name. Arren pauses, looks at him, and nods.

"Good to finally make your acquaintance, Bryn."

It might be just a name. Just a word. But for the Sergeant, it is another step toward finally beginning to know the man they have been travelling with for weeks.

Before returning to the carriage, Arren empties his backpack, moving its contents onto the carriage and leaving the bronze-looking scale in the backpack. It's probably not the best option for quick retrieval of the new "shield", but it will have to do for now.

When Bryn (ooc: finally! ) states that they are no longer in Nohem's territory, Arren shifts his glance from the road to him. "How do you know that?" he asks. "I'm seeing the same mountains, grass, and rocks. What's changed?" Even so, he takes the warning seriously.

Later, when they come across the bodies and Arren brings the carriage to a halt, he mutters under his breath, "Come on. We were just having a nice, quiet journey."

He mimicks Bryn in watching their surroundings for potential hiding places for attackers. Knowing that the Elf is alert and his weapon ready, he climbs down from the carriage to take a closer look at the bodies. The stench suggests that they weren't killed recently, but he examines the wounds nonetheless, trying to determine what kind of weapon was used, whether the strikes suggest a single attacker or several, and roughly how long they have been dead. He studies the ground as well, looking for any disturbance that might indicate the direction the killer took.

Arren turns to look toward the carriage. "I should be able to move them by myself, so you don't have to climb down."

Then he begins carefully moving the bodies to the side of the road.

Both, please make a Perception check.

Arren, please make an Investigation/Medicine check (your choice) to examine the wounds. Results may depend on the chosen skill.

Bryn Perception: 17+5=22

Previously

“Signs like this are subtle, designed to be overlooked by most folk. I couldn’t tell any more detail beyond the fact it was a border change though. I know nothing about the new stewards”, Bryn explains.

Perception: 13+3 = 16
Medicine: 17+3 = 20 

"Perhaps," comes Radis's response after a moment. "I'll write a poem for you if we do."

Commandant Nattensbarn seems unimpressed with Bryn's new name and doesn't say anything about the matter. Lieutenant Tireur seems to accept it more readily, though. "Third name's the charm?" He asks jokingly.

Bryn and Arren quickly search around for any signs of danger. Perhaps recalling their last experience with a blocked road, they are extra careful not to ignore even the slightest sign, anything that might seem out of place. But, as far as either of them can tell, no hidden attackers are present, nor are there any other signs of danger they should be worried about.

Arren believes the bodies lie there, dead, for about a day. The clean cuts, at least where the scavengers didn't get to yet, suggest that the weapon was well-maintained and that its wielder is skilled with its use. Furthermore, such long, deep cuts, are unlikely to be made with small blades like scimitars or shortswords that are usually meant to wear the opponent down with many smaller, shallow cuts over time, and are uncharacteristic of axes either. Lastly, even for a sharp blade, such large wounds require force. Either the attacker is strong, the weapon is heavy, or both. 

But even as Arren moves the bodies away, the day remains pleasant despite the gruesome sight, and it appears like, after all, this was not set up as a trap. Once the bodies are moved away just as much as necessary for the carriage to pass, Arren may return to his seat and resume the carriage's journey, driving away from the place.

By nightfall, the crew finds a place where they can camp for the night under the open skies. It appears that the next lodging is farther away. The clear weather persists into the night, albeit colder now, with just a light breeze blowing occasionally.

Once the tents are set, the Commandant heads to the carriage to take out her desk and the stool on which she sits to work under a lantern's light. Lieutenant Tireur opens the carriage's storage space to hand out rations to anyone interested.

"They didn't stand a chance," Arren shares later, once they've stopped for the night. "They chose the wrong opponent to assault. If that is what happened."

He continues after a moment. "The cuts were clean, long, and deep. They weren''t made with light weapons—daggers, scimitars, or shortswords. Not with an axe either. And whoever did it was strong." He pauses. "I can't help but think of the armored man Mydri described. But… it could have been anyone, of course."

Still, Arren wonders whether the steps the killer took might also be leading toward Pyorre. Will they find a trail of bodies ahead of them?

"This reminds me," he says, turning toward Bryn. "We never learned who attacked Nohem. Another group of bandits, perhaps? Did you hear anything about that?"

When he’s finished eating, Arren spends some time training with the scale. He practices making it hover, then runs through controlled cuts with his longsword, using both hands. If either Bryn or Walnuts is willing, he asks them to make a few tentative thrusts toward parts of his body not covered by the scale, to see whether it moves to intercept the blow.

As the time for setting watches approaches, Arren offers to take the first or the last. To Walnuts, he remarks quietly, "Few watches left for you, sir. You must already be making the countdown."

Later, if he finds a quiet moment with Bryn, Arren asks a question that has lingered in his thoughts since their clash a couple of days earlier. "You said life's kicked you down plenty of times. Was growing up in Levicka hard for you?" After a brief pause, he adds, "Do you still have family there?"

At the evening camp, Bryn will listen with interest to the details the Sergeant gives regarding the manner of the death's of the people on the road.

"Bandits don't seem the likely sorts to walk around with big and heavy weapons. More likely bows of some kind, and small weapons, easily carried and hidden. And those unfortunates looked like peasants from where I stood, although armed I guess. Could they have been the bandits? I am not so sure. So few and not that well armed, they would have had to have been desperate to attack someone armed with the sort of weapon you describe", he will reply..

He shrugs at talk of Nohem, "I didn't ask Nohem about that. I know I am the pot calling the kettle black, but I didn't trust Nohem much. Always had a bit of a smug expression, like he knew more than everyone else. Maybe he did, and maybe he didn't".

He accepts the rations from the Lieutenant, and listens to any reply he has for the Sergeant.

When the Sergeant starts testing the scale, he will certainly take an interest. Even getting involved if the Sergeant asks for a volunteer.

Besides that he will spend a little time by himself, performing the ritual to read languages. He will then take out Emil's bow and see if he can read the glyphs.

When he is asked about his time growing up in Levicka, he will meet the Sergeant's eyes and think for a moment about how much to share. "Likely no more of a hard time than the poor folk of other cities and in other countries. There were times we struggled to put food on the table, and there were times I got myself in trouble resolving that issue. It's the same old story of the privileged finding opportunity easy to come by, and those less so having to find imaginative ways to close the gap. What is the old saying? A fool and this money....", he eventually tries to explain, shaking his head and chuckling a little. "Mind you, I did learn a trade and even went legit for a little while. Well, semi legit, is more accurate".

"As for family", now he properly smiles, although it is tinged with melancholy. "Yes, I have family back home", says, and takes out of his pocket a colourful woven bracelet and slips it onto his wrist. "Hopefully will return one day, once the dust has settled".

Arren finds that Aegis moves out of his way when he swings his longsword to cover his more exposed sides, but without getting in the way. At least most of the time. He finds, however, that after every minute, the scale drops into Arren's hands, and it is not a particularly comfortable object to catch and hold while blades are swinging and arrows dart. At least, Arren expects that it won't be, if he finds himself in such a situation. When Bryn helps Arren test the scale, Arren finds that Aegis moves to intercept attacks from all sides. However, it does not track Bryn as he moves around, and its speed is limited, such that quick attacks from behind are unlikely to be protected against. But then again, it wouldn't be much different if Arren were holding the shield himself. It seems then that blindspots remain blindspots and the protection isn't perfect, but Arren believes it is at least as effective as when he uses a shield himself.

The runes on the bow are complex, and as runes go, there is no promise that they'll translate into anything. But as Bryn runs his finger over the finely carved runes, certain words pop into his mind. "Find", "locate", "track", "guide", "sense", and other words which are either synonymous or similar in nature. One word per rune, it seems, so Bryn is lucky that the runes contain actual words.

"No, haha, well, maybe I should be," Walnuts replies to Arren. "I dread it as much as I'm expecting it. I've been a soldier for so long, and while I'm looking forward to opening a new chapter in my life, I can't help but feel a little nervous. Will everything work out the way I want it to? For me, for you two? I still have so many years ahead of me. Will it hurt if I wait a day or two more? I suppose I've gotten used to the Commandant making most choices for me, but also for how she takes responsibility if anything goes wrong. Strange, perhaps, because as young as she is, it should normally have been the other way. Thinking about it makes me feel a little ashamed, so I feel like I must do as I planned. Leave, that is. Face the consequences - good or bad - of my choices."

"One minute. That's the limit," Arren says once they finish testing Aegis. "It's actually a good timespan. Most fights are decided in that much time. Sometimes even less."

He puts the scale away again, satisfied with what he's learned.

He doesn't press Bryn more, but he looks at the colorful bracelet with curiosity. Woven by her mother? Or a sister? Arren simply nods at the Elf, grateful that he has answered.

When he turns back to Walnuts, Arren briefly wonders who he meant by the two of us. Him and the Commandant? Or him and Bryn? Whatever the answer, he simply says, "We'll manage."

"It's normal to be nervous," Arren continues. "Change is always difficult. Hell, I'm a little nervous myself, knowing you won't be around. It's been—what—five years? Seeing each other every day, working side by side from dawn to dusk." A faint smile crosses his face. "Like a small family of our own."

"And it's not like you've been without responsibility all this time. Even if the Commandant makes most of the decisions and carries the final consequences, we've had our share to bear. Orders don't absolve you of what you do while carrying them out."

He pauses. "You'll be fine. You'll make choices. Sometimes they’ll go well, and sometimes they won’t. But you’ll still have the chance to learn from them. That's what life's about. Or so I think."

"Anyway," Arren finishes, his tone lighter now, "since you said you want to start your own family, I suppose it's time to leave the firearm behind and start polishing that charm of yours, eh?"

With his family still on his mind, Bryn heads off to the shared tent to trance, taking Emil's bow with him to give some thought to the meaning of the glyphs. He found with the trousers that wearing them helped activate the magic, but as the bow is not yet complete, he isn't sure whether it will work yet.

Just before going into the trance, he will use his innate ability to see magic to double check if the fix Radis performed on the bow did restore it fully.

"Perhaps. I'll have plenty of time on the way back. A more difficult task is finding the right candidate to, ah, work those charms on. How about you? Have you ever given that a thought? You're not getting any younger, and you won't live forever either. Unless," the Drow lowers his voice significantly, so that even Arren has to strain to hear him. "Unless you have your eyes on our Commandant?" He gives Arren a playful nudge. "I'm afraid that won't work out for you, oh, but heart and mind don't always come to an understanding."

Bryn finds the magic still remains in the bow, and even magically, he can see no evidence of where the bow was fractured. In fact... he's not even sure he can put his finger on where it used to be anymore. Unfortunately, knowing there's magic and knowing what it does or how to use it are two vastly different things.

Bryn will have made sure he had offered the same help drying wet clothes and boots to the Lieutenant and Commandant as he offered the Sergeant during day. If either had refused, he will offer once more before his trance.

With the blow examined and any drying done, he will trance, leaving the Sergeant and Lieutenant to sort out watches. He will however offer to keep en eye out once his trance has finished, although he is not certain whether keeping an eye on him is part of watch duty for the soldiers at the moment.

If he is to be watched and not a watcher, once he rouses from his trance he will busy himself cleaning his belongings. He will do the same for the Corporal's belongings as well, if they are not locked away.

If he happens to spend time with the Lieutenant whilst the others are sleeping, he will ask, "This plan of yours is pretty out there. I really didn't think the Commandant would go for it. I know there are politics at play here, things she must disagree with that her superiors are doing, or things she suspects that they are doing. Why summon her back just to send her away though? Do you think she will even tell us what is truly going on when she finds out?".

If he has time with the Sergeant, he will say, "You once told me you would like to see more of Etana one day. That you might have extended family there. I wonder if you might get that opportunity sooner than you expect. I wouldn't be surprised if that is our destination after Pyorre".

Arren opens his mouth to say that no, he hasn't really given it much thought—and that this is something he finds rather difficult in their line of work—when Walnuts mentions the Commandant.

He blinks. Shuts his mouth. Flushes.

Immediately, he regrets ever steering the conversation in this direction.

"Wh—what!?" he blurts, far louder than intended. A heartbeat later, he clears his throat and straightens, grasping for composure. "That would be crazy."

There's a brief, deeply uncomfortable pause.

"…I think," he adds, suddenly very interested in the state of his bedroll, "that I should get some sleep." He makes a vague gesture toward the camp, already turning away. "Long day tomorrow. Early start. Very early."

Damned Drow.

Arren is lost in thought and Bryn words catch him off guard.

“What makes you say that?”

He pauses, considering the possibility of returning to his homeland. 

"I'm not sure I'd want to meet them. Or rather, I'm not sure they'd want to see me. But I’d definitely want to see Etana again. It's a distant memory for me ... one I'd like to fill in."

"If the Lieutenant is right, and the Commandant will be sent out of Katto, then the choices are simple. We head south into Pohja, possibly on to Levicka or Pravice, or we head east into Etana", Bryn begins to explain. "If the mission is to find Breithe Staidear, we know the Commandant mentioned he was spotted in Pohja a few months ago just before the Levickans started searching for him, but the Levickans would have started looking there and they obviously didn't find him. And I highly doubt he would have returned to Levicka if he was avoiding the Levickans. And we know he passed through Katto prior to that, because he dropped in on Emma. I highly doubt he spent decades out of sight in Katto learning to do what he did to Emma. Although I think he has spent some time here more recently, because how else would he know about Emma at all? And that is not to mention Mydri's account of meeting someone who matches Breithe's description heading south away from Pyorre. That does seem too circumstantial to pay much credence to at the moment, but we cannot dismiss it entirely", he says, talking through his reasoning.

"If the Commandant were to be ordered to go south into Pohja, she would find a stale trail picked over already. Perhaps that would be the goal, to send her on a fools errand", he continues and shakes his head. "I think she is too smart to let that happen. The most recent lead of course was Tus, with the escaped prisoner. I expect the Commandant to ask me more about that once she has settled in to the fact that she has allowed me to accompany you all. Perhaps she will be tasked with tracking down the escaped prisoner, but why request she return all the way to Pyorre only to head back to Tus to pick up any trail?".

"Etana though, that would be interesting. I would be very keen to hear what the druids of Etana would have to say about Emma's situation, for example. And if you wanted to avoid people searching for you, wouldn't Etana be the perfect place to disappear?".

He concludes his musing before adding, "Of course, the Commandant might have information she hasn't yet shared. Like where in Pohja Breithe Staidear met this person for this infamous talk. It is a big place, and the exact location could help. And what else is happening in the world according to all those letters of hers. Again, perhaps once she has got used to my presence here, she will want to trade some information. I think one of the reasons she has kept me around is because she thinks I have information she will find useful, which she has to address at some point".

He shrugs, "What do you think?"

Arren listens without interrupting, and when Bryn finishes, he says,"I'm not sure I would discard Pohja. It's true Staidear left long ago, but the place is still the trading hub of Dite. And where there is trade, there are rumours. It might be worth investigating. I wonder, for example, why a man capable of erasing people's memories of him wouldn't do the same to the person he spoke to in Pohja, as he did with Emma."

"Moreover, why would someone like him need to hide in the first place? If he truly is such a powerful sorcerer, he could alter his appearance at will and hide in plain sight."

Arren shrugs.

"I don't know. Your theories are sounds. And yes, I wouldn't be surprised if the Commandant knows a lot more than she's let on. She usually shares information only when she's one hundred percent certain it can be trusted—and when she decides we need to know it."

Lieutenant Tireur happily assents to Bryn's offer to dry his boots and is more than pleased with the outcome. Commandant Nattensbarn, meanwhile, declines the first time he asks, most likely during their midday break. When he offers again, in the evening and after she had a few more hours with her legs in boots that haven't dried much, even after a day, she hesitantly acquiesces, but asks that he do it only while her feet aren't inside. After taking the boots and the cloths that act as socks for her off, she places them some distance away from her desk, then walks away barefoot until she feels she's no longer close to them. Once Bryn is done and once she wears the now-dry footwear, however, she seems overall pleased with the result. "Thank you," she says, before resuming her work.

Lieutenant Tireur seems confident enough in his ability to be aware of everything while he trances outside, despite the cold, but doesn't tell Bryn or Arren they can't watch if they wish to.

Bryn will at some point find time to speak with the Lieutenant, be it this night or another. When he does, the Drow answers: "Despite what you said before, the Commandant is mostly a reasonable person. I'm sure she has her reasons to allow you to stay with us, despite how frightened she is of your magic. I don't think what I offered before is the reason. Well, it might be, but I doubt it. When I talked, back then, I mostly spoke to you and the Sergeant. The Commandant... I'm sure she considered these ideas, but I imagine she has different goals in her mind. What I wanted to point out back then was that I believed you didn't want to harm us. If she believes that much, then she's not risking anything before she lets you step into Pyorre. Oh, but I did mean what I said. Finding another person capable of standing face-to-face with Emma or that statue would be difficult, and drying boots if nothing else is also a useful ability in its own right. Even if it's not for that reason that the Commandant allows you to stay, I'll still feel better knowing someone capable is guarding her once I leave, as long as I feel like I can trust you."

The next couple of days are mostly monotonous. The weather remains pleasant, the road is empty, and the crew behaves as they always do. Sitting around on the carriage all day isn't particularly comfortable, but there are no signs of anything more dangerous than wild animals that mostly keep their distance from a carriage, even the predators that eye Choco and Mocha enviously. 

On the third day, during the late morning hours, the carriage passes next to another group of dead people. Six in total this time, both Humans and Elves, all men, and armed better than the last group, though their fate is no better. Their wounds are very similar to those of the previous group, but it seems about two days have passed since their demise.

A few hours after passing the corpses of the second group, the crew passes next to the first other group of travellers since they first went on the mountain path. It is a small cart carrying goods, accompanied by three armed men for security, and the driver, who carries his own weapon too. They'll stop if asked, recognising Arren at the front of the carriage as a Katton soldier, but otherwise will pass by with a polite greeting and nothing more.

By evening, the carriage will arrive at a guest house called, rather plainly, "Mountain Inn". Unlike Ledge Lodge or Lory's Hostelry, the Mountain Inn is occupied, although by only a few others, and offers accommodation to the crew for a price, which the Commandant pays. This includes a warm meal for both supper and breakfast, a somewhat clean restroom and a large room shared by all travellers in the inn.

The inn is run by a family of Humans, consisting of a couple expecting their firstborn come summer, and a very excited middle-aged man who made sure every traveller knew he would be a grandpa soon, even though none would have guessed it on their own if they looked at the expecting mother. Aside from them, the only ones sharing the inn with the crew are a small wandering troupe, ten in number, on their way east, who make the evening pleasant for anyone not interested in quiet.

((Feel free to conclude your conversations before moving on to the following days. I don't want to play every day in detail, so I'll be describing them by significant events only, a few at a time. Feel free to respond or ignore any of those prompts as you see fit. If there is anything in particular you want to speak about with any of the carriage's crew, you'll find some time, even with the Commandant. If there's anything you want to do during that time, don't feel rushed just because I skipped a few of those days.))

"That is a good question", Bryn says thinking on the matter of whether Breithe Staidear was a powerful sorcerer.

"We really don't know the nature of his magic. And even if he is a powerful sorcerer, magic is taxing much like physical exercise is. The more powerful the magic, the more it takes out of you", he goes on to explain. "It certainly is intriguing, at least to me. Where does magic come from? Is it inherited or learned? Does it come from within or some external force like a deity or the world itself? In Levicka, the high born elves almost always have a spark of magic within them. But unless the spark is fanned into a flame, it will not amount to much. And then you have someone like Radis, a common born human, who has also learned to control the weave of magic to a certain extent. How is that possible?", he says, looking to read the Sergeant's expression to determine whether he shows any interest.

"Breithe Staidear as far as I know is of the high born. He would have that spark of magic within him, and from there he would have to learn how to manipulate it. And people with magical talent are not generally all powerful. Radis has learned to do things that I cannot, and I expect vice versa. Our abilities are often defined by our environment and requirements. Then of course there is practice in order to get better and to be able to control the magic properly. I assume that what happened to Emma and Hector was not intentional. That it was some unintended consequence of whatever magic or potion Breithe gave them. That could be true of the memory loss as well, although that is a little too convenient. It is all just conjecture and hypothesis at this point, I'm afraid", he concludes, obviously passionate about this subject.

"I am certain she has a plan for my presence here", Bryn replies to the Lieutenant. "I can guess at what it is, but until she opens up there is nothing I can really do but wait. I expect she never trust me enough to let me truly help her though. For example, the book she took. She knows I can help translate it, but that would mean I would find out its contents. I assume she has not brought it up because she doesn't want me to learn the contents. Or she might be waiting for me to offer again, like with drying her boots", he says and shrugs, hoping for any insight the Lieutenant might have.

"And for what it Is worth, I am happy to still be here. And only partly because I didn't fancy spending my days living in the mountains with a bunch of bandits", he adds and laughs.

When they come across the second group of bodies, Bryn is once again on high alert, but relaxes when he is told they died two days ago.

"So whoever did this is travelling faster than we are. I will admit I am glad that we are unlikely to cross their path", he ponders. He will look to see if they have been robbed, and whether they have anything to identify them or anything of value. He is also interested in whether there is a shortbow let behind, in which case he will look to take the bowstring and arrows.

 Bryn will happily speak to the owner of the cart that passes, enquiring as to what is to come ahead, and mentioning the bodies if the Sergeant hasn't already done so.

He will also ask about the goods they are transporting, in case they are of interest.

 The sight of "Mountain Inn" is a wondrous one for Bryn, doubly so when he realises it is occupied, which he might have already learned from those on the cart. 

"It may not be civilisation, but it is a damn sight closer than we have experienced for a while", he says to the Sergeant, the standing instruction to be quiet forgotten. "I can't wait to be surrounded by four proper walls, and have some hot food that actually tastes of something to eat".

He will eat his evening meal with gusto, and ask for seconds to boot, all whilst congratulating the family on their impending new arrival. And he will enjoy any entertainment provided by the wandering troupe, whilst keeping an eye out for any suspicious activity. Plenty are the times he has taken advantage of the distraction provided by street performers to help himself to what isn't yet his.

He will ask the owners and the members of the troupe if there have been any other travellers staying at the "Mountain Inn" over the last few days, with the purpose of identifying the potential cause of the corpses they have been coming across.  

"Perhaps Radis has a High Elf ancestor and inherited his magical aptitude from them. Who knows, maybe such traits can skip entire family lines, remaining dormant until they surface generations later. It would be a shame, though," he adds, "if magic were only transmitted by blood. I'd like to think there are people clever enough to learn magic through sheer willpower and study."

He stops and smiles faintly. "But what do I know? This is definitely not my area of expertise." He grows thoughtful for a moment, "I imagine my father was not a High Elf. Or perhaps he was, but my Human side overpowered whatever magic he might have had, because I'm about as magical as a brick."

"What makes you think what happened to Emma and Hector wasn't intentional?" Arren asks. "What if that man was simply covering his tracks? He's one of the most sought-after men in Dite. It would make sense that he wouldn't want to be remembered."

Arren remains silent for a while after that, lost in his own thoughts. Then he poses a question of his own to Bryn.

"Say, if I described a person to you—skin the color of cinnamon, hair yellow as a daffodil. Not an Elf, not a Human. Too tall to be a Halfling or a Dwarf. Not a Drow either. She wore a green toga, a circlet of leaves in her hair, and had a very obvious disgust for dragon scales—what would you think she was? What race? Have you ever read of anyone described that way?"

Anticipating Bryn's questions, he adds, "I talked to Walnuts some days ago about that feeling I had of being watched." He recounts the story Walnuts told him and how he described entering a trance. "I never really tranced, but I did have some kind of… lucid dream. That woman appeared and gave me the scolding of my life. She didn't like that I took the scale, apparently. Funnily enough, she made a scale similar to mine appear in her hand and let it go. And that was the first time I saw it hover."

He raises a hand, as if bracing for commentary. “I know. I know. It was just a dream. I just wonder where I might have ever seen, or read about, someone like that, to imagine her so vividly.”

Arren agrees with Bryn's assessment of the dead bodies. If this truly is the work of a single attacker, then it is a fearsome one. He can't help but wonder how he himself would fare if he ever crossed paths with them.

When the group of travelers approaches, Arren shares Bryn's line of thinking, and together they speak to them, warning them about the bodies and suggesting they take special care should they meet any strangers along the way.

The Sergeant answers Bryn's remark about the inn with a long, deep, tired exhale. He's certainly looking forward to the hot meal, the warm room, and a proper wash to rid himself of days of road dust and sweat. He smiles fondly at the expecting couple and congratulates the soon-to-be grandfather, who seems almost more excited than the parents themselves.

He enjoys whatever tale or song the wandering troupe chooses to share; such entertainment is rare on the road. When Bryn questions them about other travelers, Arren listens with interest, then repeats the same warnings they gave the travelers earlier. Out of curiosity, he also asks where their journey is taking them: whether they intend to remain in Katto or perhaps head toward Pohja or Etana.

Later that night, Arren finds himself watching the Commandant as she works. He waits for a moment when she pauses—perhaps to rest her eyes—before speaking.

"Ma'am," he asks quietly, "did you ever hear that Staidear might be accompanied by an armored man? Did any of the intel you've received mention any companions?"

The soldier can't deny that this mighty figure has intrigued him ever since Mydri first mentioned him.