---

Writing a letter of adventure was slightly difficult, especially when you couldn't move, but it was decently fine for Lorenzo. He had written notes time and time again for his parents, not that they'd ever see those notes.

After writing a brief note to his parents, Lorenzo scooted his chair over to his trunk and began to pack a series of stuff.



All of the gear picked by Lorenzo was placed into the deerskin bag he had. It was the best one he had and it was rather reliable for the road.

Martyrdom grabbed his bone and walked over to Lorenzo and began waiting. Lorenzo was seated beside the steed of Col, and with no viable way to get up, sat there rather awkwardly. "Uhm... can I have a hand on getting up from someone?"

Col quickly moved over to Lorenzo, "I will assist you." he said politely and carefully picked him up and mounted him on Merlin. "Here, I'll tie you in, the knot is simply enough to undo if needed, simple tug here and it will unravel." Col explained as he secured the young tracker. Upon turning a bright orange caught his eye and he turned glancing at it uneasily. It could mean that he had been spotted... Or it could be nothing at all. Best to err on the side of caution. "For anyone coming, we'd best be going quickly, daylight is a valuable resource after-all." And also the guard might be coming to arrest him. But of course he'd have to explain why they wanted to stop him and all that which would really be too troublesome. He would tell them the situation if it became relevant.

---

Marque went around to gather the supplies he'd need. He felt a little bad about using Lorenzo's materials rather than being able to pay for his own, but this was an emergency situation. Desperate times, and all that. What a dreary business he had found himself a part of. Once everything was gathered, he once again addressed his traveling compatriots. "Before the journey begins, I must address one important detail. I am sure it goes without saying for such a fine batch of intelligent men, however it would behoove us all to not address me by my real name and title. Such matters require discretion, naturally, and so should you find need to call out or speak my name, you may go by the humble title I chose for myself in the years since my disappearance. Please refer to me as Marque de Bourdeaux."

With that important detail addressed, and all the supplies he believed he would need, Marque was ready to venture out into the Wood. He could feel the call of adventure looming just behind the limits of sight, and with this group he had so skillfully gathered, that adventure would be met with grit, steel, and determination!

As much as he disapproved of all this, Bastian had no choice. He was a physician, and he had an obligation to his patient. Hopefully this little escapade didn't take too long. It wasn't unusually for him to sometimes be away for a couple days when dealing with more serious cases of injury or illness, so his wife wouldn't immediately become worried. But still, he didn't like gallivanting off on some grand adventure without at least telling her.

After gathering all the supplies he believed he would need, he joined the others.

"I am ready."

The group approached the woods at a brisk pace. There was a certain tension in the air mixed with the excitement brought on by adventure. Bright colors of yellow, orange and red met their eyes. It was a panorama of beauty all around them. They could not help but gaze at the bold leaves strewn about the trees and ground.

After their senses became more accustomed to The Glittering Wood, they embarked forward. The leaves rustled and crunched beneath their feet. Even an amateur tracker could see that a large group had passed through the area not long ago. The path was marked by many hoof and footprints which pasted the leaves to the ground.

Some more time passed before they spotted a lone figure heading their way. It was hard to tell at their distance who or what it was. Now how to go about this situation..

---

"A lone figure stands between ourselves and the horizon. How quaint." Marque cocked his head as they approached, commenting on the situation. He had nothing else to say on the matter, and desired no further distractions. The time for delay had long since past by. He continued his march forward, and would only address the stranger if spoken to.

Col was naturally walking alongside Merlin in case Lorenzo needed his assistance, although it quickly became apparent that unlikely, given that Merlin seemed to be going out his way to make sure that young Lorenzo remained steady and untroubled. The kaleidoscope of color was enthralling, but Col was more interested in scanning the woods for any sign of trouble than admiring the scenery. Col observed the tracks on the ground but since making guesses as to their nature was virtually pointless, didn't think on it further. It didn't take long for them to see someone else on the long and winding road. Col waved at the figure in a friendly fashion as they drew closer but otherwise made no motions, hostile or otherwise without some sort of instigation from the unknown figure.

At the sight of the figure, Bastian became anxious. He had seen this tactic before. One man halts the party while the rest ambush them from the trees. While it wasn't a guarantee that his was, indeed, such an ambush, the possibility could not be discounted. If it were an attack, they were well and truly done for. The only one among them that was capable of combat was himself and the squire, but Bastian did not have a weapon. Not to mention they would have to try to protect Lorenzo as well, though the horse he was on could easily be commanded to run away. Bastian stuck close to Lorenzo. The health and well-being of his patient was his primary concern, as it should be.

---

Soothing the massive horse that he rode on, Lorenzo snapped quickly after he heard Martyrdom begin a low growl towards the stranger in the distance. "Calm boy. He is of no threat to us," Lorenzo commented before pulling his bow off of his things, an arrow notched in it as he rode for emergencies. He was a pretty decent shot with a bow, though he was a bit rusty at using one. It'd been a minute, that's for damn sure. The dog lowered his guard at the sound of Lorenzo's voice as they continued forth on the path. Though, getting a decent look at the man, he didn't seem terribly dangerous, but it was a good idea to stay calm and keep things controlled.

Everything seemed according to his travel plans. This road would be void of most travelers during the day, as they would choose safer roads. Roads with more soldiers. Roads he wished to avoid. Soldiers he wished to avoid even more. Under his breath he retold stories to himself that he would perform in the next town over. He practiced every word, every stroke of his lute, though he refused to play it now in fears that something may try to eat him or someone may accidentally here a plucked string. He made sure every word he said ended in the right vernacular snap.

“Tis the tale of Harry the Farm Boy turned Playboy,” he says under his breath with a smile on his face. He had gotten to the point of not just telling tales of nobility, but slowly writing his own works and notes. They were often a hit, giving him big tips when he ended the night. Of course he carried the classics and tried to stay out of the spotlight as best as he could. He couldn’t afford being talked about.

He squinted his eyes, and his chest fluttered with anxiety. There were figure slowly growing closer and closer. He was certain they had already saw him and he was lingering on the road too long. What should he do? He wasn’t prepared to greet anyone, the Hermit looked around frantically and found the only solution was to duck into a bush on the side of the road near enough size to hide his silhouette. Perhaps he could fake his own existence and they would pass him by.

Col watched in puzzlement as the person in question seemed to stare at them briefly before diving headfirst off the road into a bush. At first Col would have suspected that this was some sort of ambush, but no one would be stupid enough to hide after being seen with the intent of attacking afterwards and the figure seemed more fearful than anything. Was he on the run from something. Col paused next to the bush where the strange fellow had decided to 'hide'. "Excuse me, I couldn't help but notice your sudden divergence from the path, are you feeling alright sir?" Col asked as politely as possible. After all there was the possibility the person had been suddenly beset with a fit of queasiness or sickness, in which case they might be obliged to help him to get to the nearest town. Oh course they had been going in the opposite directions but... No matter, either the stranger would accept help or not, and that would be the end of that.

@Eklispe




He had expected them to walk off. Who would want to deal with a wanderer in a bush? Yet, someone was politely speaking with him. Scheisse, think of something. He was just cautious about strangers on the road that weren’t audience.

“There’s plenty of people in this bush,” he says, “I’m not the only one.”

He clears his throat. And begins to put on a mock female voice, “Yes, I find bushes a wonderful place to stay when I need time away from the farmhouse.”

“Hrrmm yes I agree bushes are a wonderful place to stay,” he says imitating an older grufferman.

“See it’s absolutely a community thing,” Favian tells him, “Nothing to worry about at all.”

Col stared at the bush with some bewilderment. Was... he attempting to pretend that there were other people in the bush with him? Regardless of his skill at imitating voices, it was very clear that there was in fact one person in that bush. Col turned to his group with a shrug and made a little circle gesture with his pointer finger to indicate the fellow might be a bit loopy. If he was then the fellow really shouldn't be wandering around in the forest, he'd be better off in a town of some sort where he could get help. Col would feel bad leaving him out here alone. "Yes well, people in the bush aside, I think it may be better for you if you came with us to the nearest town, after all the woods can be a dangerous place on your own. Would you care to come with us sir?"

Was he implying to his traveler companions he was mad? He was merely acting with some caution, especially since this fellow was armed. What if the rest of them were armed? Except the implication that he was crazy was enough for him to come out of the bush beside his cautious nature. He looks at the individual for a second.

Some scars and his physique made this individual look like a bruiser.

"F-f-irst, I'd like you to kno I am nott mad just because I was hiding in a bush," he stammers, he was feeling uncomfortable and anxious in this situation, and he felt embarrassed that some might doubt his skill when he wasn't a good conversationalist, "I was..merely being pre-cautious. With that out of the way. I was..going..the the opposite direction to-to perform. For I am The Hermit."

He rarely dropped his name, but he had hoped by doing so that it would give him some credit. Or some kind of mercy kill he supposed.

Pre-cautious? Was that even a word? And what exactly was cautious about jumping into a bush as soon as someone saw you and hoping they went away? No matter. He said he was the Hermit? "You mean The Hermit that plays in Milbourne? The one that even the Lord Bryce came to visit?" Of course just about anyone in Milbourne knew about the Hermit and Col practically grew up listening to bards like him. Col debated the merit of asking him to preform something for them, but... It seemed terribly rude. "My apologies sir, I meant no offense. Though what I said remains true, the woods can be dangerous on your own and, well Milbourne seems to be getting more dangerous lately. Perhaps you should consider traveling in the other direction with us instead." Say, bards usually traveled around quite a bit... Could he know something about those giant wolves? "Regardless, this may sound terribly odd but... Have you heard anything about wolves in the area?" Giant wolves would just sound odd, and if he'd heard about any wolves, it would be those ones. And at this point, anything that could help him find Rolfe would be gladly welcomed.

---

At first Marque was annoyed at how Col had taken it upon himself to address the vagabond in the bushes. They had to make haste, did they not? What's more it was a dangerous, and difficult, road ahead, yet Col had invited this oddity as company? Hopefully the group would not blow Marque's cover and refer to him as the lord's son, for with every individual to keep up his charade, the cracks would inevitably split more wide. Yet he found himself elated, even changing his tune, once the stranger spoke of himself. "The Hermit? Hark, such beautiful melodies I have heard! Why, I could challenge you in a rhyme! Perhaps we might see who best entertains our company with the better oration?"

He couldn't help himself. He was a performer through and through, one in love with good story and music. Of course he had heard the tales of the Hermit in his time on stage. He had nary a thought to abandon the strange bushman now, replenished by virtue of fiction! Marque felt honored to share his presence with such a bard. "As our good sir says, perhaps you shalt join us? Important discoveries lie in these woods, perhaps even worthy enough to be sung to the people?"

---

Lorenzo sat on the horse, watching the scene unfold as he fumbled with the hood of his cloak. This new... Hermit fellow was oddly familiar to the hound trainer outside of his musical talents. He felt like he had met the man a few years prior in an actual conversation, but he had no idea if such a situation was true. It was after the fated incident, and he forwent recalling the good times he had with Loyal during then. Now he had to look towards the future and try to get out of this depressive spell. He really needed to leave the house anyhow.

Martyrdom, on the other hand, walked right up to the Hermit and sat down a few feet in front of him, his eyes staring directly at the Hermit and his tail wagging at a hundred miles an hour. Lorenzo sat atop the horse and watched. He knew Martyrdom better than most, so this was his way of asking someone for a head pat. Lorenzo wasn't fond of the hound much, but the hound knew who to trust and who to not, surprisingly. If the Hermit was a friend to Martyrdom, he could be trusted by Lorenzo.

“These woods have always been the kingdom of the wolves,” he says, “it has always been where they reign and roam. A few days ago they took the prize sheep of a farmer I knew. I think they are growing hungry and bold since they have been pushed further away from their homes.”

Favian lightly scan the others. He cannot necessarily settle the tightening anxiety beginning to develop in his chest. A part of him wants to run, but they watched him run in a bus. And indeed of viewing him as a nutter they spoke with him. Now he felt all their eyes on him indirectly and directly. Favian placed his eyes on the bush for a second before continuing.

“Aye, the Hermit,” he takes a second to look at the road behind them, the one that lead him to safety. He yearned to be in his cottage as soon as he could and now he was being invited to journey and adventure, “I do not compete with my fellows.of the musical trade. I’d, however, be honored to play with you. I bet our melodies would be harmonious.”

He bows lightly and politely, before eyeing the road behind them. There was the town and behind him was adventure and uncertainty. It made him nervous, he fidgeted with his fingers as if he was playing his lute to calm himself down. He had forgotten about his hunger in this state as he feels nauseous worry swirling in his gut.

When the dog came up to him, he pet the dog on the head, which eased his nervousness a bit.

“Maybe to the next town over,” he tells them nervously, “Traveling with you that is.”

Nothing he didn't know already. A shame, but Col didn't let the the disappointment show on his face. "Thank you. If you're traveling with us, then we at least, need have no fear of wolves." Unless of course they were those wolves, but he doubted his task would be so easily accomplished. "We should keep moving, burning daylight as it were, perhaps you can discuss your music with our resident musician? Though I would be no means pressure you to do so." Col said with a reassuring smile before stepping forward, as though the matter of him going them was already settled.

With their newest traveling companion accompanying them, the group set out deeper into the forest. They were compelled by a sense of adventure, lost comrades, duty, and a need to belong. No one was sure of what lay ahead, but they could all feel something in the air. The Glittering Wood felt like it was breathing on them as they walked, deeper, deeper, deeper still.

The tracks of a large group continued down their path. Lorenzo led them slowly gaining his confidence back. As the wind rustled through the trees he felt a sense of vigor that had not been with him for some time. Even Martydom playfully ran around the leaves, excited for something.

Bastian's hands began to feel very warm as the wind touched his flesh. It was something he had not felt since he had held his sweet, kind mother in his arms. Oh how he missed her! He knew he would return one day to free her.

Marque felt like dancing down the path himself, the air kindled his performing passions like wind on a flame. Even finding his teacher did not seem like such an arduous task at this point. He was as light as a feather.

Speaking of, Favian felt his hand move towards his precious lute. A song was rising in his soul and he was compelled to sing aloud. Of hope, of a new start. Confidence hit him and he felt ready to get to know his new companions.

Despite the trials that Col went through, the breeze washed over his scars and gave him a profound sense of peace. In his soul he received the profound impression that Rolfe was still alive. He could not point to what gave him it, but it felt like it originated from the wood itself. Merlin held his head higher then usual as well.

Time moved at a brisk pace for them. None felt weary. Hours passed them by and the sun began to dip below the horizon. The outdoorsmen of the group knew now was the time to set up camp and have a meal. Perhaps they could all discover the group they travelled with in the leafy Autumn clearing. It had gotten more chilly. Fortunately they had flint and steal with all the wood they could need.

The fire burned bright in the leafy dark wood illuminating the faces of the adventurers. They each took out some rations for sustenance and heated them up on the fire. The Hermit also enjoyed a portion with the others. Once they were filled they began to do all that was on their hearts.

Marque took it upon himself to inquire The Hermit about crafting a short play. Accompanied by his fanciful lute of course. The Hermit readily agreed, delighted to be included. For a couple of hours Marque improvised scenes using his masks to convey multiple characters. The Hermit played beautiful melodies synchronized to Marque's performances. It was a powerful sight to behold. Here they were, two newly met companions performing stirring scenes without prior knowledge of one another. Martyrdom managed to get in the way of Marque a few times, but being the improviser he was, Marque brought the clumsy dog into the scene.

Bastian tended to his patient's legs and did what he could with his limited understanding. His hands still felt warm so he made sure to press them against Lorenzo's legs to see if anything would come of it. Bastian did hear the music and spoken word of the performing duo, but most of his attention was on his patient. A fine physician's assistant indeed.

Lorenzo sat on a log, took out his art supplies and began to paint the wood around him. The trees were illuminated by the campfire which made for some beautiful inspiration. He even incorporated Marque's performance into the painting by having his shadow appear in it while leaping about. Lorenzo couldn't remember the last time he painted with such feeling. He wished for this moment to stay forever. Bastian's hands were busy with Lorenzo's paralyzed lower half. For a brief moment he thought he perceived a jolt from one of his legs..but that must have been his imagination. Martyrdom tried to follow Marque's movements and unintentionally got in the performer's way multiple times. To Lorenzo, he appeared to be having a grand time.

Col took out his short sword and began to clean it with some cloth. He also looked over his leather armor for any wear and tear. Finding none, he listened to the performances of his two companions. Had they met before? They worked so well together he could scarcely believe they had not practiced beforehand. Seeing that Lorenzo was well looked after, Col began to read one of the survival books Rolfe had given to him. It helped to reinforce his knowledge about living in the wood.



One by one they fell asleep. It was a peaceful slumber. Lorenzo was the first to fall, then Bastian soon after. Marque was next followed by Favian. Col knew they needed to have a first watch and took the role. A few more hours passed as the fire dwindled into mere embers. The trials of the day swirled through Col's mind as he struggled to stay awake. He nearly sank into slumber when suddenly he heard a far off howl. He immediately went for his sword and stood upright. Some of the others began to stir as more howls echoed through the night. The Wolfborn were on the prowl.

Those who were awake heard movement in the distance. The crunch of leaves and rustling of brush. It was hard to discern which direction or how many of them there were, but they sounded large, and fast. Time was of the essence.. their campfire barely held a flame as a howl erupted a mere 15 yards away.