"What Esaul says is true-- we trek through it plenty, but we don't really call the woods home. If it were up to me, we'd stick to those jobs what can be done within an hour's walk of an inn!"
Never mind that it's her own activities which led to this little 'get out of town for a while' thing.
"As for entertainment-- well, I can sing, but all I know is sailor's songs and they're none too delicate on the ears," Tris snickers. "And I've been told I've a voice like a seagull. But a spot of gaming, now... I do have cards with me."
She eyes the other woman speculatively. "Name your game, priestess. Maw of the Beast? Wizard's Patience? Lords and Ladies? Crusades?"
Tris is always up for the chance to gamble with someone who doesn't already know all her cheats tricks and tactics. Never mind that you can't play cards while on the trail, and that even when they rest for the night it's unlikely they'll have the light, or the energy, to game.
As they hike along, Tris looks intrigued by the list of all the places Rahaal has been. "Never got further into the elf-wood then sailing past on the river, and I've not been to Qadira or Katapesh at all. 's it true they've got these big horses that go weeks without water?"
"I wasn't going to mention the singing I like to subject the rest of them to," Devan chuckles, "But that's one way to make a fire feel like home. It doesn't matter as much how we feel, the knowledge that other people need us is what keeps me going. That, and my family's here," he says looking at all the Samaritans. "There's Grandpappy Thondie, cousin Esaul, cool auntie Tris and poppa Davan and his weird half-son Arend." It obvious from his tone that Devan is poking fun, but also quite serious about how he feels towards the other Samaritans.
Arend just glares at Devan for a moment before rolling his eyes and continuing on in silence.
Rahaal laughs an easy laugh at Tris' comment about sailor songs. "Hey now Tris! I'm a believer in order and civilization, not prudity. I can enjoy a bawdy song as much as the next gal, as long as it’s clever.
“I don't think I've ever played Wizard's Patience, but I like learning something new, and Maw of the Beast and Lords and Ladies are old favorites. Seven Stars too, if you know that one. Maybe the wind will die down and we'll find some time to play tonight, after we make camp. And if not, singing it is! I’ve no real training but I think I can hold a tune reasonably well, and I'd be happy to trade a few songs around the the fire.”
Catching her breath while hiking uphill, she replies to Tris’ question, ”Those’re camels you’re thinking of. Very handy if you’re trying to get across the desert quickly to the next hospitable town. My parents ran an import business, so I grew up traveling a decent amount at my mother’s side. Some by camel, some by boat. In a carriage when Abadar blessed us with prosperity. Every city I’ve visited has it’s own unique charm, be it their theater, sculpture gardens, or cuisine. No one makes baklava like the Katapeshi, often scented with orange or rose." Another pause while navigating under a branch that crosses the path. ”Of course there’s nowhere in Golarion to top Absolom, the City at the Center of the World. The theater is phenomenal -- from comedies to tragedies -- but so are the markets and the restaurants. And of course there’s the Starstone, where your patron won his godhood.” Rahaal nods to Tris. ”Maybe some day I’ll be able to show you all around. Have none of you been?”
When discussing sleeping outdoors, Rahaal nods at Esaul, Tris, and Devan’s explanations. ”So you put up with the hardship for duty’s sake then. That I can relate to.”
Rahaal smiles as Devan’s 'family' story, stopping to look him in the eyes, her own eyes a throbbing swirl of amber, emerald, and gold. ”You really do think of each other as family, don’t you? I...admire that.” And with that she walks along in reflective quiet.
"I'll teach you Patience if you'll show me Stars," Tris offers. She drinks up the tales of distant lands, of 'camels' and 'baklava' and fabled Absalom itself.
"I'll get there before I die," she says firmly, of the City at the Center of the World. "Gotta have a drink in the bar where Cayden took that bet. Don't imagine I'll be quite so brave... or foolish, as him, though."
She laughs raucously at the suggestion of family, shaking her head slightly, but she doesn't elaborate on her thoughts on that.
In the morning, Rahaal introduces Carter and Kel to the balance of refugees of women and children who did not awake the night before or were too suspicious. After a breakfast, most everyone is comfortable with the new plan, or at least they hold their concerns. The Samaritans help the refugees bundle up with a few traveling tricks and see them head off toward Highspur with Kel leading and Carter following. Everyone makes their farewells.
While the refugees can still see the Samaritans, Esaul takes the opportunity to obfuscate the camp and cover their tracks, such that as soon as they are out of sight, the Samaritans roll at a fast pace, with which is much quicker than Rahaal is comfortable.
Between Rahaal’s recent experience and Esaul’s skill you continue to avoid the patrols that become more plentiful the closer you get to Fairhaven. After 11 hours of constant marching, you make camp. While recovering from the march, Rahaal tells you of what to expect over the next couple of days.
Tomorrow, you must cross a small river. It was well fordable a few days ago when they passed. The following day at the pace you are making you should hit the major road that heads south. You’ll follow that road north up the mountains into Fairhaven. If the army has a checkpoint, it will probably be at the bridge which spans the breadth of a ravine that digs into a mountain.
"Do we have any alternative solutions to cross the place aside from the bridge?"
"If the bridge is guarded, I could send in Arend on a suicide mission. Then once he goes down, summon eagles to assault the remaining enemy forces from hiding. If they can't be eliminated with summoned creatures, we can pepper what remains with ranged weapons and finally engage in melee if absolutely necessary."
When Esaul finds their campsite for the night, Tris takes a few moments just to relish not-moving, after eleven hours of the punishing pace. She rubs at her sore legs and drinks deeply from her waterskin.
Once she's got her breath back, she studies the campsite Esaul has found, trying to figure out if there's any point in getting out her string from her pack.
"Dibs on first watch," she calls, only half-teasing. She'd love to sleep now, but she loves even more getting to sleep out the rest of the night. Well, barring attacks in the night.
"So long as ye don't expect ole Thondrir ta be swiminn' 'cross a river somewhere. And if it be more serious 'an that, cannae ask fer a more suitin' bottleneck 'an a bridge. Set me at tha front an' pick em 'part if ye please. Ain't found an orc or demon forged stabber fit ta get past me plates yet."
"Do we have any alternative solutions to cross the place aside from the bridge?"
Tris strings her makeshift alarm around the camp once more, even though she feels nearly too tired to see straight. With an exaggerated yawn, Tris climbs a nearby tree for her watch, settling about fifteen feet off the ground. It's not truly a crow's nest, but it's the closest she's found on land. She leans back against the trunk, legs straddling a sturdy bough, and arms crossed over her chest as she settles in for a hopefully uneventful watch.
In the morning, she is ready to move on with the others, breaking fast with handfuls of dried meat on the trail. Gambling games will have to wait.
Your first evening without visitors on the Peak’s Wood Path seemed thankfully odd. Neither your sleep nor breakfast was disturbed.
After five hours of marching and avoiding patrols, you finally arrive at the ford of the river. Esaul stops you within sight of it and motions even noisy Thondrir forward. The stones of the ford cause minor rapids of the spring snowmelt easily cloaking the discordant music of the dwarf’s heavy metal armor. The only unusual sight is across the river on the muddy bank and trail heading away from the river. A human works with a stone to open a very large wooden chest without the key.
The travel of the chest is easy to follow with heavy gouges in the muddy slope disappearing out of sight on the trail. The man is covered in mud: head, boots, studded leather armor, weapon’s belt with a shortsword and dagger. The mud on his hands and feet is wet, shiny and fresh while the balance is matte and dry. He’s breathing heavily, and stops periodically to wipe his eyes of tears and sweat. Exasperation and frustration are clear from his movements. He has not noticed you.
Rahaal recognizes him from Fairhaven but does not know his story. His name is P something.
From their hidden spot, Esaul tries to understand what is the man doing, keeping his voice low even if the river cover their sounds. "What's he doing?"
Calling out in a clear strong voice, Rahaal says,
A river. Well, a stream by her standards, it's certainly not the Sellen River, but it'll do... Tris grins a little at the sight of moving water. Just needs a little raft and she'd be right at home. But, as there is no raft...
And there's a man trying to open a box he doesn't have a key for. Interesting-er and interesting-er.
She pauses to see the man's response to Rahaal's hearty greeting. If the man responds civilly to Rahaal's greeting , she will slip out of the trees and attempt a bit of watery derring-do-- picking her way across the odd bit of slippery rock that juts up from the water, balancing deftly until she lands with a flourish on the other side of the water.
"Need any help opening that?"
"It's probably a tribute? But why wouldn't he have the key?" Devan draws his crossbow, but stays on the opposite side of the river from the man. He mentally commands Arend across to keep an eye on Tris.
Esaul seems to be lost as to what is happening. He certainly didn't want to call attention to their position like Rahaal just did, since it could certainly get them killed. They would have to have a long conversation later, but for now he held his bow ready, searching around for possible threats.
Thondrir doesn't cross the river just yet. "Angradd's steamin' coals—an' 'ere be tha river ah said ah willinnae cross."
He maintains the facade of keeping Devan safe, though it's likely more to do with stubbornness than anything else. Rahaal seems to recognize the human, whoever it is, so his steel likely won't be needed on the far bank. Inwardly, he is forced to admit he's more likely to drown in the current than make it across swiftly.
The fellow stops banging on the chest to listen to Rahaal. He then raises his hand without the stone and waves to acknowledge that he heard her but need any help.
When Tris skips across the rocks, he makes some sort of surprised noise of Acckk! and stumbles away from Tris.
Halfway across the river, not wanting to increase her speed and risk a soak, Rahaal calls out,
You make eye contact with him but the distance prevents you from really connecting.
You don't notice any other interesting details.
Esaul says something low to Light, then picks the wolf in his arms and proceeds to cross the river. "He doesn't like to get wet."
He crosses the river easily enough, even with the heavy wolf in his arms. "You're getting heavier every day, Light. I'm gonna have to control your orc-based diet."
Tris offers a white grin at the man. "No help needed? Alright, suit yourself. So you're from Fairhaven, eh?"
She drops her voice a bit, speaking quietly. "Getting out your valuables-- or someone else's-- before the town gets conquered?" she ask, sounding amused and knowing.
"Yeah. I'm from Fairhaven," He says to Tris with a long sigh. He drops the stone from his hand and looks beyond Tris at the approaching Samaritans.
Tris offers the man an easy, casual smile. She stands there with her thumbs hooked into her belt as she waits for the rest of the team (at least, those who are coming out into the open), and darts occasional glances between the refugee and the surrounding environments.
"Well, we're here to save the day, rescue princesses, kill dragons, all that stuff," she says with more optimism than she personally feels on that score.
Arend crosses the river with Rahaal, then stands with Tris.
When Rahaal gets across the river she squats down next to the man and speaks in a tone meant to sooth and give hope, "Hello, citizen. I see the fear in your eyes; is there an immediate threat you know of in the immediate area? I and this band of Samaritans will do our best to defeat those that threaten Fairhaven."
Pausing to let her words sink in she adds, "I've been out of Fairhaven for a few days now. Tell us, if you would, how you come to be here and what you've seen these past few days. And please remind me of your name, citizen."
She keeps an eye on their surroundings while the cleric talks soothingly to the man.
Thondrir has himself a seat on one of the rocks flanking the water's path. Turning to Devan, he says "Wha' d'ye figger tha wee lad is up to? 'E seems a wee bit jumpy ta me."
Esaul and light will be watchful for the surroundings, letting the others talk with the man.
"No idea, this is strange," Devan replies.
"Persey Pendersnup, how you doin'?" He says to Tris and Rahaal with a lecherously smile. He shifts a bit to move away from Arend, which appears to unnerve him.
"Left Fairhaven yesterday. It's going to hell-in-a-handbasket. You're going the wrong way to escape." He attempts to look casual.
"What's in the chest little mouse?" Arend asks, leering at the man.
Persey raises his eyebrows when Arend speaks and tries to ignore him by focusing on Tris and Rahaal.