Two weeks had passed since they'd stood around the Swordman lying in the road. He hadn't been forthcoming with whatever had happened at all, although the others suspected he knew more than he was letting on. However, everybody on the trail had long learned to let bygones be bygones and Swordsmen be Swordsmen, so they didn't press the issue. Meekal had returned with a shiny, singing sword, and they'd traveled on.
Their path led them almost directly north, veering eastwards occasionally. They were met with all sorts of travel hazards: injured horses that slowed their travel, a few thieves terrorising their campfire at night, wet, miserable weather that quickly bloomed into an early autumn storm. After four days of absolutely detestable travel through biting winds and driving rain, they lost a couple of days in finding a safe place to ford the Formosa River, which had been swollen by the rains.
With each day, the jagged heights of the Northern Reaches loomed closer and closer. The local dialect changed often, but usually one of the party members would know enough of it to warn local villagers of the upcoming war. As the northern reaches became a more obtainable goal, it settled heavily in the minds of the travelers that it would most likely take longer to scour the area for dragons than they had.
It was nearing time to make a decision.
But first, they had to stop at Quicke Trippe.
Crin had disappeared inside the small shop a few minutes before; now she emerged holding a large wooden cup with the word "BIGGIE" carved it into the rim (she didn't understand why somebody would want to carve a word like that into a cup, but she had water, so she didn't care). She offered this to Falcour and smirked over at Talmour. "Sorry, they were out of ale."
Talmour just groaned, and Crin made her way over to where the Swordsman was deep in conference with Senyik and Darion.
"We should be to the heart of the northern reaches within three weeks," she told him. "We have enough food for maybe half that distance. Maybe it's time to split up and cover more ground?"
__________________ I've got a theory. It could be bunnies.
Proud to be serving as the Official Class Clown of the Seven.
“If we split up we could prove less detectable on the way there, but Senyik’s blacksmith skills will be vital once we arrive.” Darion suggested. “If we do split up, how will we coordinate a reunion?” He shrugged “It’s great in theory, but is it doable?” He leaned his head back against the tree that was supporting him. The weeks of travel were only slightly taking their toll on his physical condition, the expression on his face looked a bit tired. Halcyon lay in its sheath, balancing on one of Darion’s raised knee. He lazily watched it teeter back and forth slowly but his ears were open to the conversation around him.
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"We have much to say about this, but it is hard to explain because you are slow to understand." Hebrews 5:11
"We choose a spot to meet up," Crin replied equably, crossing her arms casually. "On a certain date. Also, we can keep in contact through B'en." She indicated the Tiraas falcon still seated on his perch over Falcour's saddlebags. "Short messages, nothing more, but still enough. As for the need for Senyik, some of us might have rudimentary blacksmithing skills we can use?"
__________________ I've got a theory. It could be bunnies.
Proud to be serving as the Official Class Clown of the Seven.
"I would think harnessing a dragon is anything but 'rudamentary', as you say." Darion replied, raising his eyes from his weapon up to look at Crin. "But the falcon does sound like a good idea. I say we do it. We'd have a better chance in smaller groups, anyway."
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"We have much to say about this, but it is hard to explain because you are slow to understand." Hebrews 5:11
Rose was perched, squating ontop of a rather large rock with Rylus sitting at it's base. She was weaving stands of leather, varrying in light and dark browns in a tight simple pattern as she listened to the conversation but stayed quiet.
"Groups of five if we split.' Rylus spoke softly up to her.
She glanced up from her work at the group with a nod. She watched the group as Darion spoke his piece then shook her head, speaking ti Rylus.
"I'd imagine it would be a little difficult to snag a dragon with five people." She mused dryly. Now it was Rylus' turn to nod. "True it would speed things up, but it would also lessen our chances with any unhappy people we might meet on the way." She continued as she cut into one of the pieces of leather a little, making it more even.
"What do you think?" Rylus asked after a while.
"It's up to them," Rose shrugged as she pulled a piece of leather with her teeth to tighten it.
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"Wars may be fought with weapons, but they are won by men. It is the spirit of men who follow and of the man who leads that gains the victory." - George S. Patton