[center][color=39b54a][h1]Ana[/h1][/color][/center]
A whistled tune, a leisurely stroll, and the morning sun beaming across the fields. 

[i]This[/i] was how the journey ought to start: [i]not[/i] with a marching pace and a grim look. Of course, everyone and their mother started off with a marching pace and a grim look. What was even the big rush? The goal wasn't to race across the Stolen Lands; it was extermination, subjugation, and ministration. And not necessarily in that order, either. 

Regardless, their duties sounded like tiresome work and that meant they probably were. Which meant that they were better off conserving their energy than rushing headlong into the wilderness. What was the saying again? "Haste makes waste"? If they wanted to keep hurrying around, by the end of it they'd just be tired and irritated and easy prey for enterprising highwaymen. 

But more importantly, they'd be [i]tired and irritated[/i], which wasn't fun for anyone. 

Anatoliy Medvyed arrived at the palisades of one [i]Oleg's Trading Post[/i] not long after the group started their preparations for battle. Their arrival was hearkened only by a whistled tune as they ambled along the well-worn path and through the wooden gate.

[color=39b54a]"Wonderful! The whole party is together again."[/color] Ana clapped upon sighting the rest of the crew. In other circumstances, they may have left their arms open for a hug. However, it was clear by the hustle that [i]something[/i] was up... and not just the economic deficit of running an outpost with nobody in it but their group.

[color=39b54a]"I see we've met the hosts already,"[/color] Ana commented, eyes settling on the form of Oleg and Svetlana. The youth strode towards them and extended a hand. [color=39b54a]"Pleasure to meet you, Mr. Oleg and... Mr. Oleg's daughter, I presume? Ana of House Medvyed at your service,"[/color] 

Then Ana looked over their shoulder and asked the party: [color=39b54a]"What's all this then?"[/color]