Phoenix' eyes went wide in surprise, particularly at Arc's outlandish goals: "I find it very peculiar that you say your grandfather and you... allowed... them to gain a free soul. Do you believe you could have stopped the process? Do you believe you could reverse it now, if you wished? Do you have any idea how the process began?" She takes a sip to bring a pause to the flood of questions.

"Forgive me, but I've seen them as an uncaring, unthinking enemy for nigh on a decade, but I've realised from the first that you view them with such an aesthete's appreciation. And having met Corti, I can see why. It is hard to imagine her on the battlefield, though I don't doubt for a second that she was constructed for much the same purpose. Have you told her of your ambitions? I'd be curious to know what she makes of them?"

At Arc's last comment, she blushed a little, perhaps using these questions as a way to regain control of the conversation.

---------------------------------

 The pair of advance riders turn around and looking at your group. "If you want to stand and drive them off, you best be quick about it. Night is approaching fast up here, so we won't have much time to get settled for the night. Best if we split up the tasks."

Arc would offer a charming smile towards the Marshal chuckling slightly at her attempt to regain control, "You're quite radiant when you're blushing." Adding fuel to the fire, he kept smiling but opted to answer her questions...to a degree.

His smile and chuckle took a more stoic gaze as he recalled what his Uncle told him and the future plans to rob the Warforged of their newfound freewill. He took a deep sigh as he momentarily debated telling Phoenix, "....It wasn't that we allowed them to....more accurately, we didn't care to prevent it. My Uncle and I are both burdened and bless with this." He brought a hand up to his face, pushing aside his bangs to reveal his often hidden eye, the Dragon Mark clearly emphasized over it as it crossed his eyelids and eyebrow, touching his cheekbone. Arc traced the mark with the tips of his fingers, "...whether we garner some greater intelligence or insight from the Mark or it signifies those with it holding such things, I have no way of knowing....what I do know, is that my Uncle has already been commissioned by my father, who in turn is being paid by others, to find such a means of.....well, as you stated, 'Stopping the process'." The idea clearly didn't sit well with Arcius as he unconsciously scowled and even spat out the words for the action hatefully, even despite his mask that kept those bursts of emotion short.

In regards to Corti, Arc shook his head, "Quite frankly, you're the second person in my life I've spoken of this to. Not many take the idea of someone claiming to build a God at face value." He gave a self-deprecating chuckle to the idea of how a church would react to his claim. "Though, regardless of her or other's thoughts, it matters not. The dream requires far more work and planning than what I have open to me at this time, it's simply a point of gathering knowledge for it currently."

Gyselle keeps her eyes peeled for an easily defended shelter. 

Survival: 19

Gyselle passes up a few locations, trying to find a roper place. Unfortunately, the search takes a while longer than you thought, and the sun has already set, with the sky quickly dimming when you arrive to a nook in the cliffface, wich extends about fifteen or twenty feet underneath the overhanging rock, and giving only one entrance to guard. 

As it's getting dark quicker, the other tasks are getting harder, either because you have less time to do them, or because you'll be doing them in the dark.

-----------------------------------------

Phoenix flashes a smile, before retorting: "Are you always this forward with former enemies?"

She mirrored Arc's seriousness when he would show her his dragonmark, realising that this was something intimate and important to him, and judging by the cascading fringe of hair in front of it, also something he wasn't being too public about. "I don't want to belittle the believes you have about your inherited calling, but I've seen how your mind works, and that's you, not any mark on your face. And although you share your mark with your relatives, isn't what you're saying the best evidence of it's relatively minor influence? It was your grandfathers to build a mighty weapon, and it was your father's to market it to gain power, wealth and fame. It is yours to find a meaning behind the essence of being you had a hand in creating. It speaks to your character that you seem to be using your gift to bring people together and to help them solve problems, to search and to give meaning, even at a small level. And between you and me, I've never met a visionary that held realistic dreams. If I'd been realistic, I wouldn't be in this situation now."

Tarian looked over the spot Gyselle chose and eased herself off the horse to lead it into the campsite. Well, it's not like I saw anything better. 

"I'll start setting up camp. There's a long day behind, and another long one ahead, so we'd best get what rest we can, predators or no." She looked to the lancers. "They're your company's horses, so I hope you know how to set them up for the night."

Wisdom (Survival): 21

Corti dismounts at Gyselle's spot and bounces on her feet slightly, trying to get her joints moving smoothly. She leads her horse over to the others and moves back over to where Tarian is setting up camp. "I can take watch tonight." Whenever the others are getting ready to rest up for the night, Corti will find a spot near the entrance under the rock to set up.

Arc would chuckle and give Phoenix a warm smile, countering back with her own tone, albeit a tad warmer, "Are you this forward with your former enemies? If you keep going, I might think you were falling for me." Still, it was nice to hear someone validate him, Gods knew he rarely had any in his life. His gaze softened as he sighed, "Well I suppose that's why we're both where we are now, no? Far-flung dreamers, attempting to beat back a cold reality.....complications aside, I'd say we're doing well enough~" 

Despite the late hour, Tarian is quickly setting up the camp, while the lancers hitch the horses on a nearby root, within sight of the cavern. Before long, a small fire is burning, casting the rocky walls of the cavern in a warm light, although it doesn't actually provide a lot of heat yet.

Corti, you would be able to see the mountain lions stroll about a few hundreds yards away, still seemingly waiting for their opportunity.

Thia needed a laugh. A smile would finally break her lips when the sound of Corti's laugh would ring in the air. Truthfully, the artificer knew she wouldn't actually disrespectfully tear down someones hard work for no reason. Academic research purposes, or an actual life or death situation would be the only times that could warrant mindful deconstruction. Having the passive though of giving it a name, the redhead would smirk to herself as she'd return the prosthetic hand to her bag.

With everyone settling into place, and the lion's strolling close by, Thia would keep it quick and simple. The artificer would tweak a couple of her tools and repurpose others in order to hopefully prepare a satisfying meal for the night. Pulling out what rations she could find, the redhead would roast some of the nuts. She'd pair them with some leafy greens she had scavenged recently and in some dried herbs after she's mulled them. If there was a little whine and vinegar, she'd reduce it down, hopefully not burning it, for a dressing. The amateur cook would top it off with any dried fruits she could pull from the rations.

Nature: 21

Thia would present what she put together with a sheepish smile. She hoped it tasted passable and that there was at least enough to satisfy growling stomachs.

The sauce is burnt, and the whole thing is a rather sorry amalgamation of ingredients, but to the hungry lancers and the rest of you, the taste is secondary. It would be too much to say that you enjoyed your meal though. You let the fire burn, with Corti being close by to watch the cave entrance, as you all get a bit of a rest. You agree to get up before dawn tomoroow, so as to getting back onto the trek in order to reach your destination by tomorrow evening.

The lancers are a bit more relaxed now and are talking trying to strike up a bit of conversation, asking what you were doing in the region, and what brought you all together.

Corti half listens to the conversation made by her friends and the lancers, and half watches the prowling mountain lions. She eyes them, pulling her lute into her lap and tuning it, knowing that it had gone neglected for the past couple days. Once she gets it in shape she'll start playing, loud enough for both the cats and the others to hear, but not meaning to turn it into a performance. She doesn't take her eyes off of the mountain lions, but considers the recent developments as she plays through one of her sets from back in the city.

Phoenix blushes for the briefest of seconds, before she gives Arc a warm smile: "Stranger things have happened to be sure, but what is it your fishers say? Don't sell your cod before you catch it?" There is a hint of defiance in her eyes, that quickly turns into joy at the challenge she put before you. "I've never seen myself as someone that tried to be something despite reality. I made it my business to learn how to twist it to my advantage. Unfortunately, I think that that might have made me more suceptible to someone like Ishmael..." Her face turns, as if she dislikes the topic she herself brought up. She quickly grabs her cup to take a sip to cover the moment.

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You all drift off to sleep, with the smell and the sound of the crackling fire, and Corti's tune in the background letting you all drift off to a short, but restful sleep. The warforged wakes you all before the dawn, and after a quick cup of tea boiled on the embers of the fire and enjoyed with some nuts and honey, you set off again, the lancers interspersed to help guide each one of you through the darkness for the first couple of miles. 

As soon as the light floods in around you though, you notice that the mountain lions are still following you, and that they seem to have gathered more of their pride over night. it looks like there are four or five of them now, still hanging back but stalking your group closely.

Gyselle eyes the food suspiciously as it’s given to her by Thia and gives it a quick sniff. Which causes her nose to wrinkle almost immediately. She then spends the next 10 minutes praying over the food before she eats it. (purify food and drink)

After dinner she attempts to use thaumaturgy to create sounds similar to a thunderstorm in an attempt to scare the mountain lions away. She also very much enjoys Corti’s impromptu performance as it’s been ages since she’s heard anyone playing a musical instrument. Let alone singing as well.

It’s much to her dismay the following morning to see that there are now more of them following the group. She keeps a close watch on them and is ready to use sacred flame should they get within 30ft of the party.

Thia really put the effort in to make the food good, but knew she botched it. A soft chuff of amusement would leave her nose. It was just her luck. The mood was somber. Nobody talked but the lancers. That's twice now that they've been open to conversation on this trek. But what could she say? What was appropriate? Honestly, she did partially expect Tarian to respond... Something. But then again, Tarian would barely look at her, let alone speak with her... And Gyselle was suspicious of her meal... The artificer would sigh to herself. What mess I've made... For what?

Positioning her bag as a pillow, Thia would lay her head down for the night and just focus on Corti's music. I'm no one... She'd lose herself to the sound of the notes Corti played on her lute. It calmed her restless mind and relaxed her breathing. "Thank you Corti..." The artificer would whisper as she'd tearily drift off into sleep. During the night, despite the warmth of the fire, she'd begin to shiver, pulling her legs to her chest.

Thia slept, but did not feel well rested. She was woken up in a cold sweat. Accepting the hot tea to hopefully calm her shivers, the artificer would pick at her breakfast in a groggy haze. When it was time to get moving, she'd oblige and fumble her way back onto her horse for the next leg of their journey. And it looked as though their enemies multiplied over night. Although aware of them, Thia try to focus on the terrain and the plants around them. Figuring everyone else more suited for it was well focused on the lions, she'd keep an eye out for the trees. Was Silverbark possible to be found yet? Were they getting near their location?

The meal’s flavor skirted the edge of palatability, and tasted of mostly of sour, nuts, and ash. Tarian picked one of the dried herbs from her teeth. She probably picked the ingredients based on their nutrition value rather than flavor. She’s probably even taking into account rationing the rations, I’d reckon. She sopped up some of the overdone sauce with some of the bitter leafy greens and grabbed some of the fruits and nuts with it. Eh, I’ve eaten worse. Made worse, even. ‘If it doesn’t make you sick then you’re fine, even if you don’t like it.’ Tarian questioned her mother’s wisdom at times, but a happy belly was worth more than a happy tongue right now.

When the lancers tried to strike up conversation, Tarian’s answers were guarded. “We’re here for a job, and that job is what brought us together. You saw the sign on the cart, right? Corphyrean Rail, out of Duskrock. If Marshal Arceneaux has already sent some of you to Duskrock, you can ask them about it if you won’t take me at face value.”

The comment was probing, she knew. These lancers either knew something about what was going on in the Marshal’s camp or they didn’t, and she hoped their reaction to what she said would tell her whether or not they’d be useful, useless, or whether they were trying to use her for information.

Corti had stayed more or less alert throughout the night, keeping the lute quiet to hear the sounds of the mountain lions. Although she couldn't see them, she could hear sounds of movement in the dark. I think I should be above getting spooked by some big cats by now, she edged closer to the fire and readjusted her headscarf to be tighter around her, And yet...

When it came time to wake the others, Corti rose, shaking out her arms and feeling relieved that the mountain lions hadn't attacked in the night. Feeling stiff, she made her way over to her sleeping companions. "Up and at 'em everyone," Spotting Thia's sluggishness, she shoots the artificer a sympathetic grin. She'll accept the tea, but pass on breakfast, sipping at her cup while walking in circles around their small camp, intending to make the most out of the downtime before the riding for the day.

Noting Tarian's caution from last night, Corti will try to start up small talk with the lancer guiding her, keeping the conversation focused on their life.

Arc smiles seeing the faint blush on the Marshal's cheeks, countering, "Judging by the meal and a certain warmth blossoming from someone's cheeks, I'd say I'm close to reeling it in."

Arc watches Phoenix giving her the moment to hide her distress for a moment before adding, "What road do we take, the Right where nothing is left, or the Left where nothing is right?" He was paraphrasing a quote, but he felt it fit what he thought, "...your trust was betrayed, I know the feeling. But if that is the cost of being someone of character, than I return your words to me, It speaks to your character, that you are able to maintain such basic principles and light in your heart. You're not made weaker or worse for being able to trust others, rather, you make them your strength." He pushes his cup to the side, as it was now empty, "Sure, a small handful of snakes have pierced your heart...but look at all you still have. You haven't fallen yet, you're still standing strong and more than that, even with that tumble, your men still follow you....your principles and character, as well as what you signify with it, are their hope."

Phoenix flashes a slightly displeased look, before Arc continued. As he finished, she says, in a somber tone of voice: "I never inspired... they follow me not for their hope and belief in me, but for the fear of the alternative. They blame me for the conditions in camp, for the many ill, and for the campaign with only dead to reap. To many, I'm a usurper, the bastard heir of the General, as some say. Others call me the Bronze Marshal, because I'm malleable and bend under pressure. There are few that see me as a commander with their best interests at heart. If anyone here has given them hope, it's you and your promise of a life beyond the conflict. While many may grumble at the prospect of laying down their arms to become humble peasants, at least you've secured a future for them, for now. I couldn't even do that. The only way to redeem myself in their eyes is to suffer the punishments they wish upon me. I don't think you're aware, but I fully expect that Magistrate Corsyr will want to see me in chains, and present me as  such to the Council. I only hope that I'll be the only one."

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"Sorta hard to ask anyone now, guess we'll have to take your word for it. Never heard of the Corphyrean Rail, didn't know people in Duskrock are invoking the name of the old Empire  again. Feels strange, after we've been the ones defending it, all these years." You can tell that the ccomment is not meant to provoke, but comes from ignorance born from years spent on campaign and relatively cut off from the rest of the continent.

Once you're all on the road again and the light allows you all to travel faster, you notice that the trees slowly give way to bushes, brush and thorns, before receding to moss and lichen only the higher you climb. The pass above you is shrouded in clouds, but you can see some eagles circling above. As you check, you can't see the lions anymore. Either, they found easier prey, or they're giving you a wider berth, but you can't make them out from your vantage point.

Another hour or so in, and the path narrows and becomes so treachorous that the lancers are getting off their mounts and guiding them along the path by the bridle.

Dexterity check: 14

Thia would have returned a small smile in return to Corti.

The tea spread warmth through her body, but it didn't last through the trek. Thia got the sweats again, which turned back into shivers. She felt some sense of relief when the lions would back off slightly, though they still appeared to have a challenging trek ahead. Now wasn't the time to get complacent. Seeing the lancers begin to dismount and lead their horses, with Gyselle following suit, Thia assumed Tarian and Corti may be soon to follow as well. Thia felt herself resist the temptation to dismount her horse. She contemplated whether it was riskier for her to get off, or just try to maneuver the horse while still riding it. Thinking it over, she decided she rather tumble off a horse now on her own terms, than fall off while riding it.

Dex: 4