Thurston was the first of the Archanost to be ready at the gate, waiting for the others. He has polished his armor and has the new greaves and armbrands that he has forged in the past days along with the rest of the equipment he and the dwarf had created. 

He has his greatbow on one side, with the quiver and the arrows near it, and he has his great warhammer on his lap. When the rest of the team finally arrives, he salute them with a big smile and puts on his new winged helmet on his head, grab his gear and listen to Jex. 

" HA!! you are a box of surprises my good friend!!" he pats his shoulder. " Get ready Archanost for great things and deeds awaits for us!" he, now ready to leave, walks and imparts some last instructions to the Marcus and some guards concerning their training for the next weeks. 

He pats one orphan who has come to say goodbye on the head and, grabbing Rikkazarik, looks to the rest. 

"Can we go or are we going to weep like old women for losing the comodities of your new, fancy homes?" he smiles to the rest of his friends. 

Jex grins and winks.

"Let's go. Too much to do to wait around."

The road to Khaz a Grungron is four days' march up the mountain pass known as "The High Road". It's a relatively flat, though winding trail that traverses the spine of the Ice Cap Peaks. Narrow roads alongside perilous precipices are par for the course as the route winds about the various mountains between Sheercleft and the small Dwarven settlement that is their nearest neighbour.

The east wind clips across the mountaintops as the wagon rolls out through the village's northern gate. The spring air is frigid this early in the morning, and even those used to the alpine climate feel the icy breeze bite at their bones. The six companions follow the road north for four hours before the nagging bite of hunger begins to set in around mid-morning.

Jex darts ahead periodically, looking out for danger, or potentially difficult areas for the wagon to pass. As mid-morning approaches though, he returns to enjoy something to eat with the others. 

"Is everyone well stocked for supplies? This journey could be long and maybe we should try to hunt some game or gather some berries and save our rations for harder times."

Back in the village before their departure, Valaith points towards a long, oiled cloth that is rolled around something and attached to her backpack. "Always have it with me now."

On the road, Valaith looks at Jex. "I can find us enough food for each day we are on the roads, save our rations just in case. It won't be hard, my people lived off the land entirely in the frozen wastes. These lands are fertile and plentiful outside the mountains." She feels a warmth echoing from her chest as Larkin's spirit seems to agree and appreciate her recognition of their tribe and honoring their ways.

Hurrig stands at the gates with his friends ready to make the journey to what he once called home. Since arriving at Sheercleft, after running away from Shamley, he had never thought to journey back to Khaz a Grungon. Always too worried about what may come to any friends or family that he made contact with. the fear and hesitation can be seen by his friends. His normal warm demeanor is replaced with anxious biting of the inside of his cheek. 

After spending so much time with the cleric the past days, Thurston is starting to learn to read his behavior. Once the stop to eat, the Norscan sits nearby the dwarf and shares with him some mead from his mead canteen. 

“What’s up with you Hurrig? You are sad to stop working all the day at the forge? Or there is something that worries you?” 

It's still early in the morning and mist hangs in the air of the pass as the Acharnost take their first break. All is quiet, yet somehow Valaith can't shake the sensation of being watched.

 As the group continues on, Valaith keeps her eyes along the horizon and constantly scanning, but no matter how much she doesn't see... she cannot help feel that someone or something is watching their passing. "Something is watching us. I know it." She says to the group. "I don't know what or where they are, but... I can sense it. We must be very wary going forward."

In response to Val's warning, Vark visibly tenses, now keeping his eyes on the rocks and brush above them. After a few minutes, he mutters an incantation and the morning mist around him suddenly jumps to him like a magnet. The water droplets collect and freeze into intimidating spiked plates on top of his armor. Cracks and fissures within the ice appear deep red, like veins of blood are frozen within the frigid armor.

Thurston looks around and it seems that he kind of sniffs the air. 

"Well.. They are hidden for now... " he takes a few steps forward, with the hammer on his hand and the cloak billowing behind him and he yells.

"Listen to me you cowards!!! We know you are there!!! Stop hidding like rats and come out and fight like men!!! I dare you to fight me!!" 

Jex ducks and the wagon. "Thurston! You wish to bring down hail of arrows from unseen foe? Scout and counter, knowledge is power." He draws his bow, looking for a good place to hide to the side of the pass. 

As though on cue, the tell-tale whistle of loosed arrows echoes about the narrow pass as five shafts sail through the air towards Thurston. However, the mighty Norscan stands tall as each and every single one merely clatters off of the mithril plates of his shining armour. A split second later there is nothing but silence once more.

Bründir springs from behind the wagon with his shield braced and his crossbow resting atop. "Get out 'ere ye bastards!" He stays close to the wagon for cover if needed, but whispers from behind his shield, "May be good to tuck an' run if we need."

After the arrows stop Thurston looks to Jex. 

“Ha! You see? There are your ambushers!! Come back here cowards!!!” He yells towards the rocks above. 
“ Know that the Archanost protect this roads now and we will not tolerate you bandit scum!! Lay your weapons now and you may live. Fight and you will meet your puny Gods today...” 

Holding Rikkazarik, a spark of blue lighting across the surface of the hammer, the cloak moving behind him. 

The mountainside remains resolutely silent and empty, but for the whistling of the wind.

Jex looks along the mountainside, ignoring Thurston for the moment, looking at the direction the arrows have fallen from. He darts off from the path, disappearing into the surrounding rocks to see if he can find any of their attackers.

Val glimpses motion here and there amongst the rocky outcroppings that run up the mountainside. She can hear rapid footsteps, as small heads bob and weave amongst the sparse vegetation, hurrying away from the wagon. Bründir hears them too, but can't seem to find a target for his crossbow. Jex pursues, and while his search for the assailants is fruitless, he does find a dropped arrow and some scraps of ragged cloth in a bush.

Val roars out a challenge as the arrows fly and she immediately begins scanning the area for threats. She spots some rushing figures and bobbing heads running away from the wagon. "HAH! They're running away, Thurston scared them away!" WIth the immediate threat gone, she stoops and checks one of the arrows, noticing that they look crudely made. "These are not civilized people."

Vark steps beside Val as she inspects the arrows. "Kobolds? Or... maybe Goblins?"