Kathy seems glad that Tarian and Thia were trying to diffuse the conversation: “Aye lass, we have no doctors nearby, so we got pretty good at lookin’ after the scrapes an’ bruises of our dears.” Then turning to Pete, she adds in a soothing tone: “‘s aight Pete, ‘s a’ight. They’re gunna taek the big’un with’em, an’ the others seem happy enough to help out ‘round’ ere. I think it best, if we let’em atone fer wha’ they did to youse, don’t ya too?” Taken aback, Pete looked to the other villagers, who seemed to shift uncomfortably, and then back to your group, in the hopes of finding some support for his idea there. After a short while, tears start welling up, and between sobs, he cries out: “Who was I kiddin’! We ain’t no killers, ‘s jus’ I was scared fer me life, an’ I don’t want to ever feel like tha’ again, or ta see the same happen to those I care fer.” Then, turning to Tarian, he adds: “Thank ye! Yer givin’ us sum protection, an’ maybe, ov’r time, we’ll be better able ta defend ourselves.”

With that, Kathy brought the two roughed up men inside to be taken care off by the village’s midwife and herbalist. As the congregation dispersed, Njalgas approaches you all: “We need to send off our report and then decide how to carry on our track. Tarian, what’d you have in mind for the big guy there?”

"Tarian was thinking that we'd take him off your hands. See if he'd be useful. That is, if he's really sorry for what he did and grateful that the people of this village are deciding to not immediately execute him."

"Alright, if ye can handle him, I've got no quarrel with that plan. Still though, it's way past sundown, and we need to make our report. Should I mention this side venture here?" As Njalgas was speaking, he had started to set up the telelith.

“That’s fine, Mister Njalgas, you report whatever you feel you need to report.”

If Njalgas is sending strange reports, it’s not like I’d know the difference. Arc or Thia’d be better at understanding whatever that telelith thing does.

Tarian returned to Durnn and sat across from him, facing him. She offered him a bit of her dinner. “So, Arceneaux, hm?” She studied his face as she spoke. “Our job has us headed in the direction she’s coming from.” She raised a hand, warding off his objections. “Now, I understand you probably don’t want to come with us. I’ve seen you making eyes at the wilderness, planning your escape. I know a place you can go to hide if you’re as strong and as good a worker as you say, but if you hold on to that ‘soldiers’ pride’ of yours,” Tarian points at the uniform, “you’ll be marked for a soldier, and maybe one of Arceneaux’s at that. If you can let go of all that—toss the uniform, and at least pretend to take on a civilian life for a while—if you can do that, then in exchange for some information about Arceneaux, I’ll tell you about a place nearby that you can work, eat, and—more importantly—hide. What say you?”

Durnn seems to wince at your mention of "soldier's pride" and his eyes flare for a moment, before he regains his composure. He swallows hard, before answering: "Alright, I was done with the military live anyway, I only kept the coat because it kept me warm. I'll tell you what you want to know, if you tell me where to go first. It's not like I can get there in a couple of hours, I take it, and even if I ran, knowing where I'd go with my injured leg, you'll catch up with me quickly." His voice is steady, and his reasoning sound. He's got his back to the wall, but seems willing to talk to you, as you've shown already that you're not unreasonable as people.

“Fair enough.” Tarian adjusted, and pulled her bag a bit closer. “About a day and a half’s travel further down the road here—away from Arceneaux—“ Tarian clarified and briefly pointed down the road back toward Duskrock, “there’s a mining outfit that takes its meals with a logging outfit in a clearing on the side of the road. Take a job with the mine and that’s a fair job, regular meals, and a place to hide. I doubt she’s going to scour every last hole in the dirt for one deserter. Of course, if you show up in uniform then someone might recognize you, or maybe you’ll come up in casual conversation when her army passes by and be unintentionally outed by someone you thought was a friend.”

From her bag Tarian pulled three days’ worth of rations and a waterskin, and set them down beside her. “You might find supplies useful, and maybe a change of clothes. Getting them would probably have been easier if you hadn’t just smashed some villagers’ faces in. Having someone care for that leg might be helpful,” Tarian continued, and pulled out her box of bandages and salves, “and there are a few people right here who have the skills to do it. I could do it myself, but where I come from, ‘cavalryman’ is just another word for ‘horse thief,’ and your friends did some real rough work on the other medically-skilled members of my crew under your advice.” Tarian fastened the top flap of her bag, and left the offerings on the ground beside her, a bit outside Durnn’s reach.

“Tell us what you can about Arceneaux: how to stay beneath her notice; how to get her attention if we need to; what to worry about if we have her attention; generally useful information on crossing paths with her. Convince me that what you have to tell me is worth all of this.” Tarian gestured to the items beside her.

Hesitantly, Durnn begins to speak: "She's very slippery- She got to be a marshal through trickery and deceit, claiming the title after the General passed. No one minded at first, given the chaos of Thelamyria and the General's funeral. But if you talk with her, or worse yet, negotiate, don't trust her. She's crafty, cold, and calculating. After Thelamyria, she knew she had to force the alliance's hand by moving on to Breland next. She hopes to negotiate with them, on behalf of the Legion, and so if you make camp in the open and make sure to travel along the well trodden roads, her scouts will find you and bring you to her. If you try to evade her, that might entice her to speak with you more, but she'd likely assume you wanted to do her ill.

Since negotiation is what she wants, be wary of making any promises before witnesses. Don't anger her, since she has no qualms of killing to get to where she needs to be. If you claim to be officials, she'll likely treat you with more care. Her army is in bad shape, and I can't expect it having gotten any better since I ran. She knows that her options are limited, but like a caged animal, she gets more fearsome the more limited she is. She has started to become paranoid, I think, lending much more credence to her Khalashtari advisor, going by the name of Ishmael. I know that that's caused some friction among her camp, and as you heard from me, there's reason enough for many to desert."

Durnn looks at you steadily, speaking naturally and unforced.

With Tarian doing what she does best, Thia will accompany Njalgas on the report. He was right, it was getting late. Besides, a report was more her speed right now while she nursed her wound anyways. Taking a seat near Njalgas, the medic would undo her cloak and lift her shirt, exposing her midriff so she could bandage and inspect while he did all the writing. "We may as well include everything. I will be taking note of it and documenting the area during mapping anyhow." She'd glance up for a moment while the words leave her lips to see if Tarian or any of the others would protest the direction she's given the halfling.

Tarian nodded. “We might be able to make something useful out of that. I suppose you can take these.” Tarian pushed the rations and waterskin closer to Durnn. “Now, I won’t be gentle and I won’t be kind, but I can look at that injury for you, if you have something more… directly useful: a trusted contact, or perhaps how a wagon might slip by her scouts unnoticed? It doesn’t have to be one of those, exactly, but you got out somehow, and that could help us through—or in, if necessary.”

Durnn gritted his teeth, before continuing: "Alright, I'll tell you. But on the condition that you help her too. They got a doctor, Othmar Leech, and his assistant, Gyselle. They're good people, and Gyselle helped get me out of the camp. If you get inside, she might be able to help you, if you can convince her that the wellbeing of the soldiers is your concern. Othmar might also help you, but he's been rather busy lately. If you lent him a hand, that would go a long way to getting his trust and support. As far as hiding goes, she suspects that, and has her scouts posted all around. Best is to not give her a reason to attack."

He looks at Tarian with a hopeful look in his eye, knowing fulwell that an injured muscle was unlikely to heal right if he didn't get it looked at by someone with some understanding of human anatomy. He was much better at the breaking than the fixing.

Hmm. That could be quite useful, actually. We have a seasoned mercenary and a credentialed doctor, so appealing to Leech and Gyselle could be doable. And Corti’s gift with words and Arc’s prototype arm replacement-thing idea—talking our way in might be something we can do. I’ll have to tell them what I’ve learned here and get their input.

Tarian made a show of considering what Durnn said, then after a long moment, she sighed and picked up her healer’s kit. “Good enough, I suppose.” She undid the latch and looked at Durnn’s leg. “Your injury. Show it. I can’t work on what I can’t see.”

She set down the kit and grabbed the waterskin, doused her hands and explained she’d refill it before Durnn left, then scoured her hands of the water and dirt with a clean cloth. She then took the bottle of distilled spirits from the case and thoroughly rubbed some on her hands, saying, “This is fieldwork, mind you, not a proper hospital. And this is far from the first time I’ve patched up someone who just tried to kill me.” As Tarian smeared a paste from the kit on her fingertips, she said, “So don’t try anything funny because an apothecary can kill you even after they’re dead. I know what every substance in here does, do you?”

The arrow had sliced through a significant portion of the muscle, and walking around was likely to aggravate the wound more. Tarian does her best to clean the  wound and stitch it back together, cautioning Durnn from putting too much strain on it in the next week or so, knowing fulwell that he might simply not be able to follow her advice. He listened, and let her patch him up, knowing that this was his best shot.

In the meantime, Njaglas sends off his report, and notes the village and the run-in with local brigands. Not knowing what Tarian was discussing with Durnn, or that he's a Garonnian legionnaire, he doesn't give him particular mention. Ten minutes later, he takes the telelith apart, and stowing it with the rest of your gear. He then starts to push the cart into one of the nearby stables, and unhitches the horses, as the rest of you start to settle in for the night.

Brandt is drawing up a watch plan, and Tarian is finishing up with Durnn. Does anyone want to do anything else for now or can we go over to the night and the next morning?

Arc spends an hour drawing up a projected plan for the railway to pass through/alongside the village since it would make a good rest point, and work in benefit for the villagers. Once he's done with that, he spends a few good minutes watching the night sky before turning in to sleep.

Once the report was complete, and she finished bandaging her wound, Thia would approach Corti. She’d take Corti’s hand and squeeze it with her own so the warforged could register her touch. “I appreciate your companionship Corti. I believe the one who nurtured who you are was special. Your compassion is inspiring and your positivity refreshing.” Thia would smile. “I enjoy working with you. Thank you for what you do.” The artificer felt as though she needed to share some of that gratitude so that she wouldn’t fall into a spiral of dwelling the death the caused today. 

Thia would then approach Brandt to report for her watch assignment. “When do you want me?”

Corti, feeling out of place with both the technical aspects of their railroad assignment and Tarian's handling of Durnn, would spend some time with the villagers, recording their stories under the pretense of reports, but mostly hoping to recount their tales through song some day. When finished with that, she makes her way over to their cart and supplies, tending to the horses and getting things in order for their travel.

As Thia takes her hand, Corti wraps her free hand over top of Thia's, bringing it up to her chest and holding it there as Thia speaks. She beams at Thia's words, and as the artificer finishes she squeezes her hand, "Thia- Thank you, I couldn't think of anyone I'd rather be on this journey with," she breaks off, looking away momentarily, "I'm glad you're alright, too. I was terrified when I saw you were injured." She watches Thia go, smiling to herself, before turning back to the wagon.

"Third watch." Brandt replies, not really doing any number crunching.

The night passes quietly, with you all taking turns on watch dut, taking particular care to keep an eye on the former bandits. They, much to your annoyance, seem to sleep like rocks all through the night, either taking your words as a warning to not try anything, or else just because they really needed a rest.

You all rise at dawn, and after a simple breakfast provided by the villagers, and added to by some hot tea from Njalgas, you're getting ready to leave. As your cart is loaded and you're about to set off, the villagers all come out of their homes to see you off, and you already see Brelak and his former bandits in amongst them, as if to show that they took their second chance seriously.

Tarian had already seen to it that Durnn left in the direction of the indicated town at dawn, so not even his presence could dampen the spirit of the moment. With high spirits and glad that you had been able to help these villagers, you set off, further along the path. 

Over the next two hours, you see the country becoming decidedly rougher, with the rolling hills giving way to rocky outcroppings and cliffs, and the verdant grass turning increasingly to short and hard straw-like sheaths. Fitting the rougher landscape, clouds had drawn up, casting the area into a sombre penumbra. Another half hour later, the first flashes of lighting appeared on the horizon, before the clouds opened up, and you are caught in a high-land thunderstorm. The temperature plummets, and within minutes, you're all huddling in the interior of the wagon, trying to keep dry and warm. Tarian, you and Njalgas are already soaked to the bone, and simply trying to do your best to stay on the muddy path, constantly having to blink the water droplets out of your eyes.

"It'll be much harder to find our way like this, we should see if we can't rest up for a while and wait for the weather to pass", shouts Njalgas.

Tarian growled. "I hate it, but you’re right, Mister Njalgas. We can’t afford to get the wagon stuck."

Tarian rubbed her face in an attempt to both get the water out of her eyes and hide her irritation. This is what happens when you offer kindness to people you don’t know. I wonder how much further we’d have gotten if we had just ignored them. Well, nothing can be done about the delay now. She poked her head into the cart and because of the difference in volume outside and in, she spoke a bit louder than she intended, saying, "We’re going to need shelter from this weather. We can’t have the cart stuck in the mud. Any objections?"

Arc pondered for a moment before stepping out, "Is getting stuck the only problem? Hmmm...." He seems to be coming up with another idea, but shakes his head, "Nothing to do for the time being, sure, let's set up. Spot any good locations?"

Njalgas finds you all a cave soon enough, and after hithching the horses up near a tree, you move your essentials to the cave to shelter down for the day. As you take a look around the cave though, you immediately notice that someone had recently used it to shelter here too- the roof of the cave was blackened from the soot of a camp fire, the remains of which had been barely covered with wet earth. You also find some small bones, likely from the person's meal, and a few scraps of cloth lying nearby.