Brental approaches the white stallion. "Perhaps you and I can be friends today." He reaches into his pocket and pulls out the oats for the proud creature to sniff. He looks at Vodnykel as well, smiling.
Surely he won't mind this, at least for now.
Lorna approaches the shy horse carefully. She tries to smile, but she herself is concerned as to not disturb the animal. She met wild horses before - and some of them were really too much into biting and kicking for her taste. Yet, she gulps in and tries to put a confident face and steps forward as if asking the animal permission to get closer.
"That's the idea, Lorna," Brental says as he sees Lorna approach carefully. "A smile, but no teeth. Horses understand your demeanor, but teeth are a threat signal in the wild. Show that you are equals."
Brental looks to see how Signy is faring with the third of the called horses, though he maintains his attention on understanding and soothing the pride of the stallion in front of him. I seek not to tame you, he says entirely with his body language, Only to work with you for a stretch of the road.
Since she doesn't understand most of what's transpiring with the horses, Signy keeps quiet, shuffling her feet some as she waits. When Meneas points out her horse, she sidles up beside him and leans in to whisper.
"Can I name him? Or would that be rude? Does he already have a name?"
Brental cocks his head to the side, "That's a question for our gnome. They probably do have names, though whether they translate to something we recognize is another question. Vodnykel's mother told me his name. It roughly means "water tusk", though I don't know in what language. I'm sure that even now my pronunciation is inadequate. Wisp, unless they're perturbed and don't wish to talk more, can you please ask for these kind creatures' names?"
Wisp's head tilts, taken aback at Signy's question. She's never asked an animal its name before—honestly, she's generally assumed they don't have names until she gives them names. But she addresses the horses again.
“Grant/Give/Permit: Ride/Carry/Travel-With.”
“One-Sun-Cycle/One-Day/Three-Mealtimes.”
“Expect/Want/Desire: Much Brushing/Protection From Bears/Wolves/Wargs.”
The white stallion neighs and inclines its head to the gnome, flicking it’s left ear, and tapping its hoof into the ground before it.
When Lorna approaches the shy horse she takes a few paces back and whinnies trepidatiously but, along with Brental’s guidance and a calm smile, the mare eventually allows Lorna to place her hand on it and brush through her mane. The beast’s heart steadies at the soft hand of its soon-to-be rider.
“This One/Herd-Walker/Long Mane: Has Gentle Eyes/Not Roper/No Hurt Me”
When Brental pulls out the oat and holds it up towards the white stallion, its calm eyes linger on the aasimar for a moment before it approaches and sniffs curiously at the oat in his outstretched palm. In just a few seconds the horse’s mouth opens wide as it chomps down on the oat in Brental’s hand tickling it somewhat with its surprisingly lounge rough tongue.
“Give Food/Gift/Sustenance.”
“Taste Okay/Not Bad/Had Better.”
“Prefer/Want/Desire Sweet Red Things.”
“Herd-Walker/Small One/Calf: Give One Once/Then/Long Before.”
Signy’s horse bucks its head under her arm pushing her back a bit with its mass as it eagerly appears to be getting her to hop on its back and get started.
The white stallion brays.
It then shakes its head towards the shy mare.
He then bucks his head and neighs at Signy’s horse.
"Wargs?" Wisp says aloud, startled at something as she gazes into the horse's eyes. Her gaze darts to Brental's. Haven't seen one of those in a red moon or two.
She recovers herself and turns to Signy with a smile. "Yours is named Runs At Trees. Lorna, yours is named Swift Heart. Brental's lad is Cloud Strider. Keep an eye out for apple trees while we ride."
She turns back to Vodnykel and grimaces. "Well. Back to the ol' grindstone. By which I mean sittin' on this one is like..." She trails off, eyeing Vodnykel mistrustfully.
Experimentally, she tries to ask the mastodon something. But as always, Vodnykel just stares at her. The gnome scowls.
Signy side-eyes the gnome druid when told the name of her horse. She has to wonder if horse names are given at birth, or earned due t the individual's tendencies and characteristics. She very much hopes the former. Since she doubts 'Cloud Strider' has ever really strode among the clouds, she chooses to believe the same is more or less true for 'Runs At Trees'. She approaches the horse and strokes his neck while suggesting a bargain.
"So this will be something new. I've never ridden a horse, and you've never been ridden. I think we'll need to cooperate to get through this. I have a deal I'd like to make with you. I'll sit up there and not do anything annoying. You don't run too fast, or run into any trees. How's that sound?"
Without a saddle, Signy is extra perplexed about how to get on. The closest thing she can think of having done in the past is climbing a wall, so she goes with that same approach. She puts her arms up across the horses's back and leaps while pulling herself up. This maneuver gets her to laying flopped across the horses's back on her stomach, arms and head on one side and legs on the other. From the she reaches over and throws her arm around the horses neck. She pulls herself around until she's hugging the horse, both arms around his neck and face buried in his name. Finally she can throw a leg over from there and sit up.
Signy beams proudly, looking around from her new height as she pats the horse's neck.
Wisp watches the display with friendly amusement, privately procrastinating her own embarrassing efforts to get back on top of Vodnykel. "I wish I could offer tips, dear, but, well, you already look to know this better than I. Vodnykel only lets me ride because Brother Odd-Eyes insists."
Meneas winces slightly at Signy's attempt to mount her horse - successful though it is. Immediately, he nudges Veil over to help guide the younger woman in how she should sit - especially bareback - so as to hurt the horse the least. Also to make sure her muscles won't get too sore once she stops riding.
"I can help us move faster for an hour or so a day, but that's if we need to rush." Meneas says, before turning to his companions.
"Save it, then, dear." Wisp rubs her palms together and makes her way nervously to Vodnykel. "We're gonna be okay, here, right, you big furball? Never play your getaway card in a forward-facin' hand, as a friend of mine liked to say."
"Cloud Strider, mm? It suits you." Brental gently brushes his fingers through the stallion's mane and leaps up with more experience and knowledge than Signy. With a knowing look between them, he gently takes the mane around Cloud Strider's withers and with a burst of speed kicks himself up and over. He rubs the horse's shoulder, giving a happy pat the same as Signy.
"The first apple I see, I'm plucking for you."
As Wisp mentions Wargs, Brental's eyes shimmer with a bit of violet. Hopefully nothing to worry about. Could be a common worry. Or else something to keep watch for.
"Wylhia, if you have any berries I promise they would do the trick," Brental suggests. Vodnykel gives a muted trumpet, more eyeing the horses than seeming perturbed at Wisp. "Though I'm sure he wouldn't say no to an apple either."
"And I agree. If the weather turns or we must give chase for any reason, I would rather you hold your curious magicks, Meneas."
Brental breathes a sigh of relief as he begins leading Cloud Strider onto the road. Were it not for Wisp and Meneas, he isn't sure that he would have been able to manage all that on his own. As Lorna had mentioned a few times already: there was no need to underestimate any of their contributions.
"Right. O' course." Wisp still seems a little skeptical as she re-mounts the mastodon. "Signy, why don't you an' the Cowl take point? That way Runs At Trees has a good example to follow in Veil an' plenty of room to wander ahead supervised if she wants to."
Her eyes settle briefly on Veil as she speaks, noting the horse's good behavior. There's really something funny about the creature, but Wisp has very little experience with horses. She frowns and turns back to the road.
Along the way, Wisp keeps an eye out for berry bushes, apple trees, and potion reagents.
Runs At Trees nickers as Signy climbs upon its back, evidently discomforted by the haphazard act of mounting the unsaddled horse.He seems to react positively towards Signy's cajoling, however, and after a short time of running off on his own, off the beaten trail, and circling back around to the others one his sudden burst of energy had been expended, everything seems to ho relatively well.
Riding bare-back is tough on the riders as well as the horses and mastodon and after a solid six hours they are all feeling, very-much so, worse for wear. But no predators dare approach this loud group of humans and mounts so at least you are all able to keep your word of providing protection to the beasts.
Along the way Whisp is able to identify a variety of mushrooms, weeds, and other such herbs that would be useful in potion crafting but she does not have the time to stop and make the potions right now so she simply gathers them up and waits for a more ideal time to put them to good use. She does also manage to find a bush thick with whimsyberries which she recons would make a fine treat to any animal though they may be a bit strong in flavor for your average human. No apple trees can be found along the way, however,and she gathers that they are unlikely to be local to this region. Cloud Strider must have had an imported one somehow.
At the end of the six hours the party comes upon an imposing wooden structure in their path. A typical border fort of the Aldori, dozens of soldiers can be seen marching in and out of the walls around the fort all casting curious glances towards the party but otherwise minding their own daily regimen.
"Halt!" a spindly guard whose helmet appears slightly too large for his head as he is constantly forced to readjust the thing cries out to them blocking their path before they can enter the gate into the fort.
"This is the border to the Stolen Lands, any business you have beyond this point requires the direct consent of the government of Brevoy or local nobility. Present papers if you have them or turn back now." the guard demands in a bored tone that conveys instantly that this is a rehearsed speech he's given many many times prior.
Meneas reaches into his saddlebags, retrieving the papers giving the group mandate to do just that. "Here you are, sir." He says politely, bending down from Veil's back to hand it to the guard. Somehow, he manages to keep his hood on through the whole motion.
The guard casts a suspicious eye on the hoodrd figure who hands him the requested form but proceeds to read the charter regardless and nods in understanding upon completion handing the form back to Meneas promptly. "Very well then all seems to check out here. You'll find Oleg's Trading post just another fourty miles dues west of here. Keep in mind that you'll be on your own out there so if you run into some trouble you can't handle we wont be there to bail you out." The man huffs and stands to the side allowing the party to pass.
"Don't envy you lot going up against that Stag Lord fella. Right nasty piece of work that one is from the sounds of things. You aren't the first band whose cone through here woth dreams of glory only to be sent packong with their tales between their legs."
Wisp politely encourages Vodnykel to pass, smiling to the guards as she goes.
"I don't know why they bother with this checkpoint," she says quietly to the others once out of earshot, suppressing a giggle. "Anyone who wants into the Stolen Lands can just get in from the other side. I s'pose it makes them feel better about it, though. Nice to feel in control. Lorna, any history I'm missin' on it?"
"Thanks for your advice." Meneas says politely. "Hopefully, we'll be the last to go in, and we won't come back battered and beaten."
When they've passed by the guard, the knight-errant looks at the gnome druid. "It's not like they can guard the whole border. But I suspect they want to keep Rostlander bandits from joining up or carving out their own realms in the Stolen Lands - the trade routes are valuable, as the Aldori woman said."
Despite his words, he does look to Lorna as well, curious if she knows more than him.
Brental is still feeling the sting of abject rejection at Nivakta's Crossing, but practically still rules his mind. This must be Fort Serenko. They would be unable to reach Oleg today no matter how hard they rode, unless they wanted to risk harm to their horses. But it is certainly too early to stop.
As they pass through the gates, Brental nods and absent-mindedly says thank you to the gate guard. People keep warning us...
On the other side, after Lorna responds to Wisp, Brental voices his concern, more for the two who presumably have less experience roughing it. "Useless or no, this is the last stop for 40 miles. I would like to keep going so that we can arrive tomorrow, but is there any need for anyone to stop and rest a moment? We're likely to sleep on the road this evening."
Brental casts his eyes over the entire group. Meneas might single out Signy and Lorna, but anyone could desire a break.
"I could... use a break, I think." Wisp takes a deep breath, shifting unhappily aboard Vodnykel. "Maybe just a minute or two, though. Help me down, Brother Odd-Eyes."
Once she's down and lying comfortably on a mossy fallen log, the gnome takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly. "How're we for food?" She glances over, particularly at Signy—Cayden is the god of food and drink, after all, to her limited recollection. "If we slow down a little, we can gather provisions as we go."
Swift Heart! What an inspired name. - she genuinely says towards the horse - Thanks for lending me your swiftness, my dear.
Lorna waits as her companions address the guards. She was still getting used to actually riding the horse, and finding her armor a little clumsy for the task. Some people make it look so easy!, she thinks.
As the gnome asks about any particular historic relevance of the place, she looks around as if trying to catch the references, and pushes her memory...
Wisp stretches and yawns, still lying on her back on the log. "What draws one to history, anyways? I never understood that sorta thing, no offense, dear. Reminds me o' wallowing in old glories an' failures. Not really a habit of those I grew up 'round."
Signy enjoyed horseback riding for a while, but after a few hours she's had about enough of it. She stretches out her weary muscles.
"I'm fine to keep n going or stay, I guess it depends on whether we're going to get spit on here."
"We should have penty of food for the rest of the distance, about two more days right? I've barely used the rations I'm carrying, and even after they're used up we'll have pancakes for miles. I bought extra before we left."
"Whatever works for everyone." Wisp finally sits up and cracks her neck with a grimace of relief. "If you don't mind eatin' jerky and tack for the whole way, I'll make do. Brother Odd-Eyes, toss me a strip?"
Brental reaches into his bag and pulls out a trail ration, throwing it to Wisp. "We'll be fine for food. And if we slow our pace when we resume (to give our muscles a break), then I will be able to find enough to supplement us. These woods are abundant, but I would rather we find bounty that will not be poisonous. We can also subsist on what we have for now and when we break for camp I can gather then."
"I would not mind foraging, either. I'm not used to supplying for more than myself and Veil, but I wouldn't mind slowing down on our way to Oleg's. There's no rush." Meneas says after a moment. "As for staying here or continuing on, I'd like to camp out beneath the stars, but there will be plenty of that when we get to the Stolen Lands, so... I'm fine with either." He shrugs.
Fort Serenko was put here to guard South Brevoy from bandits and the usual orcs, trolls and other nuisances of the area. - Lorna speaks to the others, as they get together, out of the guards ears - As the Stolen Lands aren't really populated, and the centaurs from Nomen Heights usually keep people out, the only other option to try to slip would be the Shrike River, but you guys know... Who would face those treacherous deep and fast waters?
Happy to remember enough, she gives a little pause.
And I agree... We should keep pace, but no need to rush so much considering the whole situation. We have time to forage or hunt a bit as we move towards Oleg's.
Brental listens to Lorna's explanation intently. "That makes sense, I suppose. Minimal threat, minimal fortification."
Brental also dismounts for a moment to stretch and rub at Cloud Strider's muscles.
"The stars are usually lovely at this time of year, and hopefully the skies will remain clear. We'll want to set a watch later. We are entering bandit territory, and other wildlings may get curious."
Brental walks over to Vodnykel as well, massaging a few of his joints where it looks like he and Wisp caught each other wrong. He opens a saddle bag on the calf's side and pulls out a few items. There is a jingling of bells. "It's not much, but we'll be able to set a perimeter and cover at least a few of our possessions to make thievery more difficult."
He then pulls out a slate board with some chalk. "We're not in uncharted territory yet, but I'll use this as we move forward as well. It will help us avoid becoming lost."
It's always best to be prepared. Brental cracks his neck and looks ready to move on.
The party follow the central path through Fort Serenko excited to continue on with their journey, taking their very first steps out into the Stolen Lands themselves. All about them the hustle and bustle of soldiers continues. It's more than apparent that these men and women are preparing for something, though what you are not sure, perhaps the bandits just beyond the border of the fort have these trained men and women more on edge than is one might have anticipated.
Within the fort Wisp does manage to spot a box filled with red delicious apples, imported from gods know where, to be used as rations for the troopers here.
Other than that the road streches out before you just past the western exit to the fort, departing from the Shrike River and heading due north while the river itself dips to the south. The light rolling hills completely flatten on the horizon into endless flat plains, dotted with only the barest of traces of tree groves and bushes.
Meneas relaxes slightly as the group exits the fortress. "I'm not terribly fond of Rostland's... military presence. Call it an old bias from being raised in Issia." He chuckles dryly. "In any case, it looks like we're headed in the right direction... this place is flatter than my singing voice."
While traveling on past the fort, Signy's enthusiasm dampens some. The landscape is far less interesting, and that's the biggest thing. She's also wearier now than she was at the outset, with less energy that needs to go somewhere.
Her chatter changes from comments about what she's seeing to questions about outcomes.
"We'll be back into a forest by the time we get to Oleg's right?"
And too often to not eventually get a little irritating:
"How many miles have we gone now?"
"Oh, how would we know, Cowl?" Wisp giggles slightly. "You might have to give us some frame of reference for that sometime."
She didn't like the fort much, either. Nations always try to find ways to occupy the River Kingdoms. It's their way. They never succeed, but it does always make things a little worse for everyone involved. The gnome didn't say anything about it, but she kept close to Brental, and she nods emphatically now at Meneas's criticism.
She clearly doesn't care for the flat, tree-less terrain, either. Actually, it seems to unnerve her, and she keeps looking around as if expecting to see some sort of cover or swell in the earth where there is none. "'Tis said that giants dwell beneath every hill," she says, with a lightness she clearly doesn't feel, "an' on the plains, they're hidin' deeper, poised to spring at any time. Funny how people can get so superstitious 'round simple geographics."
"Maybe I'll sing for you all sometime." He chuckles dryly. "But I wouldn't want to ruin our companionship before it's even begun by inflicting that upon you all."
"Singing ain't about good or bad. It's like smiling. Some have prettier smiles, some have uglier ones, but you don't tell anyone not to do it." Wisp speaks with the confidence of someone with a naturally pleasant alto singing voice.
Oh, Meneas, I’d throw out some coins to see you try the vocal cords! - speaks Lorna, having a bit too much fun with it.
The Taldan rides calmly - concerned she’d fall if she tried to push the wild horse too much. Trying to avoid the thoughts, she continues speaking.
What do you guys expect of this... Adventure of ours? Not the Stag Lord thing... I meant, the Stolen Lands. Brevoy will see it grow, so one can only wonder what the pioneers think about it.
"Everyone tries their luck at conquerin' the River Kingdoms," Wisp says, speaking the thoughts that have been swirling through their mind ever since the fort. "The Aldori probably think it's their turn to take a shot at it. If Cheliax couldn't do it, Brevoy sure as anything can't. They'll be sent home like every nation before 'em." They flash Lorna a wry smile. "But workin' for them is a fine way to pass the time, and it pays well. I can't fault 'em for testing their luck. Aren't they in some sort of war right now with their neighbors?"
"The Stolen Lands aren't the River Kingdoms." Meneas points out, amused, as he allows the others' discussion of songs to pass. "That's why they're 'Stolen.' No one can claim them now, but everyone claims they were theirs back in the day... whenever that was."
"We're none of us a band of bards, so I doubt we'll be harsh judges," Brental chuckles. If he could sing, Brental's voice sounds a pleasant (if quietly resonant) baritone. But he makes no offer one way or the other.
To Signy, he thinks quickly "I'd see we're about halfway here, more or less. Riftun said about ninety miles with twenty-two and twenty-two between our most recent destinations. As for forests, I hope so."
Brental steers Cloud Strider carefully around a hill, well aware of Wisp's warning of giants. Brental had not had the misfortune of meeting a hill giant in his day, and he hoped to continue avoiding their company as long as possible.
"The Stolen Lands are indeed not the River Kingdoms, nor Brevoy, nor of any other nation. This Stag Lord may claim them as his own, but he seems to care not for treating well with his neighbors. At least Cheliax, Irrisen, and Nidal have diplomatic trading relations, whatever you may think of their...politics."
Brental pauses and considers whether to say what is on his mind next. He decides to go for it. "As for me, as a," he chuckles at the thought, "pioneer, I recognize something similar to Wylhia. Continued efforts in these lands seem inevitable. Humanity, and most other races for that matter, can scarcely stand the unspoiled and unsettled wild. Whether fear or avarice, we seek to claim and subjugate. I have no illusions about why we are here. I merely hope to be a mediating influence."
Wisp sort of smiles and rolls her eyes good-naturedly - but perhaps a little overly self-assuredly - at the corrections of her colleagues. "Aye, the Stolen Lands aren't a part of the River Kingdoms. So everyone keeps saying."
She hesitates, briefly considering leaving it there. But, well, she's already opened her mouth anyways... "I mean no ill to Brevoy, or Issia, or Rostland, or whoever's nation rises today or tomorrow. I just... there's a clearness in the River Kingdoms' chaos. As my Brother says, a closeness to nature. To me, wherever there's no king, no lord, no occupyin' army or diabolist tyrant, you'll find the Rivers flowin' through."
Aside from asserting with great confidence "Meneas will sing for us sooner or later", Signy largely stays out of the conversation. Most of the places and events everyone else is discussing are either unknown, or only vaguely known to Signy so she has nothing to add.
Many hours of riding later to all arrive at a bend in the road finally heading west again. As the moon hangs high in the air and your muscles ache all over from riding and foraging for food stuffs along the way it seems that this is as good a spot as any to set up camp for the night. On your travels you came across a few hunters bringing hides and meats back to Restov for sale in the city's expansive market area. Other than that the area has become somewhat more woodsie and not long before you made camp you could swear you heard howling coming from somwwhere.
Despite his best efforts, Meneas is unable to forage much of use during the journey onwards.
When they finally make camp, the young man rubs Veil down, relieving her of her burdens as best he can. After taking as much care of her as he can, he looks up upon hearing the howls. "I suspect we may have company soon... if those are wolves, they'll likely leave us alone. But there are other, worse things that sound like that." His hood turns to the druids for confirmation.
Brental stretches as he helps the others to make camp, listening carefully to the howling and taking stock of what bounty he and his companions have been able to find that day to supplement the rest of their supplies.
As they make camp, Brental looks for a good place to set up a tripwire. Perhaps two trees set 10 feet apart in a likely place that some other creature might tread. He also throws a bell net over his gear.
"If anyone else wants to place any of their equipment under hear, you're welcome to do so."
"I can take first watch as well, unless someone else would prefer fully uninterrupted sleep."