There was nothing unusual when the orc arrived, except one particular person was not among the group.

The absence of the two bothered her somehow, but it was more on the Samurai. Jazdia was a wild card, yet her motive was clear; she would not abandon the investment she had worked so hard to rescue. She couldn't say the same Chonan however. That little man was a different breed of suspicious, he was a renegade, a quitter, and still a foreigner that has seen much of the nation's secret. She remembered how upset King Fredricus was when the foreign man resigned from his knighthood. His proposal was granted, true, but she marked him as untrustworthy from that day on. Why would the king hire him again on this important matter, she never knew.

"Where was Chonan?" the orc asked with a slightly agitated posture. "I did say to everyone to stay here and wait for us!"

---

Chounan was taking an arguably deserved nap. The other’s were still in the cellar. He could sense his shadow was still with the prince and Cedar. Solomon wondered what might be holding them. I could predict some distrust, especially from the prince. Though Solomon introduced them earlier, they could still present an air of maliciousness the prince could be wary to. Perhaps they knew of the admiral’s visit. Given the encounters Solomon had heard of those involved in the Delving family, and the encounter he had with them earlier, that was also a possibility. There was a nonzero chance the Admiral had nefarious plans involving the prince. On one hand, Cedar would want to keep them apart, on the other jazdia and Matilda had an understanding of how to go about the admiral’s proposal. It was time to bring everyone to the same page.

Since Yvonne was in and out of being sober and Reinhold was still unconscious, Solomon found that he had more time on his hands. It felt uncomfortable. Though the encounter with admiral Silas was only just minutes ago, it felt like ages. Something nefarious could happen and with everyone separated as they are, he waited to see whether Silas would keep to his word or betray them as they were divided. Perhaps he was thinking too much into it.

Then Matilda returned. Following her was the prince and Cedar. It looked as though Solomon’s bear friend had succeeded at disguising the prince, but he wasn’t sure how effective it would be now that the admiral was involved. Jazdia was notably absent, and the look on Matilda’s face expressed just how aware of it she was. Her furrowed eyebrows as she glanced the room didn’t seem to offer any relief. Matilda asked of the samurai, and only then did Solomon also notice he was no longer present.

“That is a good question.” said Solomon, bewildered how it appeared no one noticed the samurai’s departure. He chuckled. The samurai seemed exhausted, but evidently not enough to sneak off as he did. Solomon’s demeanor then darkened. He turned to face Matilda. Something happened, and Solomon needed to act fast to try and rectify it. A new voice among the spirits of the dead rose among the choir, one of honor and regret. Was it Silas’ men? Another entity yet to have revealed itself? It felt unlikely, but with only one of his shadows watching the keep, it wouldn’t be impossible.

“I think I know where he could have gone. I’ll go ahead and retrieve him. With his speed and my shadows, we should catch up once you depart.” said Solomon. He didn’t want to incite potential panic, especially from the prince. Cedar might be of help, but given how close he was to the prince, it could be too risky. “I should be with back with you before you leave the city limits.”

Matilda was annoyed by the proposition but found no reason to object to it, especially with the changes in the doctor's tone.

"We will not wait for him," she said, redundantly stressing what the doctor had implied earlier. "So don't take your time. If you can't find him, don't bother searching."
One more runner and betrayer would not make much difference now. If he was deserting, then we leave him. This way, His Majesty."

The group, save Solomon left the tower immediately and encountered Jazdia on their way down



"Oh, leaving so soon?" the elf chirped. Matilda, again didn't find it amusing and grunted as the rest of the party paused their descent.
"Isn't that what you want? What we agreed upon?" she grumbled angrily, but Jazdia shook her head. Stabbing her lithe finger toward the direction of the tower behind them, her eyes glittered with a violet color as she spoke.

"No, I mean... I thought there would be a movement of silence for that Samurai or something. I think Solomon found him now. He is lying on the floor somewhere in the building with his gut ripped open. Dead now, by his own blade. A suicide most likely."

The orc captain only balled her fist and knocked her metal armor with it, Saying nothing as she continued their journey down.
Jazdia took a deep breath, she would not grieve for him, not one bit. She had no respect for people who did not cherish their life, especially those who died cowardly by their own hands for an easy way out.

The elf glanced at the tower one last time before following the group again. Her mind raced back to the slave room and the victims the Samurai accidentally murdered during their raid on the Black Serpent HQ. The only regret she felt was Chonan died without a proper trial. The man must have felt the sheer pain of guilt torturing him before his untimely demise. Was this all a fair retribution for those he wronged?

There was nothing much happened when they walked through the ruined city. The evacuation effort had been mostly finished, and some civilians could be seen scavenging their belongings from what was left of their dwellings. Some surviving guards and Silas' naval officers were patrolling around, trying to maintain a semblance of order before the help from the capital arrived.

As they reached the city gate, three horses and Baron's wagon were parked near the city limits. Silas and his maid were nowhere to be seen.

---

“I understand.” said Solomon briefly before he briskly exited the ruined dining hall. As he did so, he could hear the shuffled movement of the others as they collected their belongs. Packs shifted and armaments rattled as they left the keep one by one. Solomon knew that he might require a little more time than that what Matilda had expected. He couldn’t blame her though, Solomon’s words made it sound as though Chounan still stood among the living. Solomon also knew, otherwise. The only reason he would be able to hear the words of the samurai is if he had fallen.

It did not take long to find Chounan. His figured sat hunched over his own sword, blood dripping from the blade, soaking into the fabric of his trousers. Viscous flow of deep red pools around his face, his eyes closed, almost relaxed as though the pain he just endured meant nothing. It was a strange sight to behold. As Solomon looked over the scene, it was obvious what had happened. It wasn’t an antagonistic ploy, Chounan had decided to do this to himself. Solomon could not fathom why. What regrets could he have to have committed such an act here and now?

Solomon regained his composure as he took several steps forward, dropping to his knees once he reached chounan’s body. He repositioned the samurai, carefully holding the blade to prevent further damage. Though Solomon arrived as quickly as he could, Chounan had already lost so much blood. To further the dire in the situation, Solomon’s supplies were low. He resorted to using the samurai’s own kimono to help with some of the bandaging. Carefully, Solomon removed the blade and sewed the man together again. Though time was ticking, Solomon worked as diligently as he could. He needed to stop further blood loss. When he was finally done, Solomon’s sleeves were soaked in blood. The samurai lay on his back similarly so. The blade that committed the act lay across the room.

When all was said and done, Chounan was still lifeless upon the cold stone floor. If Cedar were here, he could take over and fully heal the stitches. Perhaps then the samurai could have a better chance. As it were, it would take a miracle. One that Solomon could not provide. It irked the necromancer to know that not only was this death preventable, but that Chounan had committed it himself. To make it worse, Solomon lacked the skill and power he needed to circumvent this death.

“You may have chosen this path for your honor...” said Solomon softly. For the moment where Solomon started to treat the wound, Chounan protested from beyond his grave. However, Solomon refused to listen. He did not know of the foreign ways Chounan attempted to explain, and did not care to. However, now that Solomon had expended all he could, it was left to him. “I will not offer you undeath. I do not understand your motivations, but if you find your path unclear, perhaps you may find a way to draw breath once again.”

Solomon slowly stood back up, his hands resting on his own knees for support. Even after all Solomon had done, Chounan lay peacefully upon the ground. Given the best of Solomon’s efforts, Chounan’s body lay stitched and bandaged. One way or another, the choice of life was within the hands of the samurai. Solomon removed the canteen, using the remaining swallows of water to wash his hands of the blood, though his sleeves started to stiffen as the blood coagulated.

Solomon returned to the dining hall. Petra and the shadow that was once above the keep were waiting. There were signs of others, but none could be seen. Even the surface where Reinhold layed was empty.

“They left.” said Petra.

“I know.” replied Solomon somberly. He sighed and turned his head enough that it cracked audibly. “Let us catch up with them. I’ve done all I can.” Solomon then focused as his body turned black as though he were nothing by a silhouette, his figure becoming nondescript. Without any further conversation form either Petra or the shadow, the shadow began to also become nondescript. It enveloped Solomon, their two forms merging into a levitating black mass. Petra finally left from her place near the stairwell and walked out of the keep like the party had done before her. The formless shadow collapsed into the ground, zipping in a straight line out of the keep towards the city gate, where the others would either be near, or not too far past. Petra cast flight on herself, and took to the air just enough to fly in a straight line the same direction. Solomon would arrive with the others first, but Petra would not be too far behind.

Cedar did not like the situation. There were horses, but an odd number.

Maybe they were broke to pull with a lead horse? Be that as it may, there was no way they could squeeze him into that closed top carriage. He'd be sticking out both sides of the darned thing, and putting him on the back could make it tip over.

Even then, there wasn't enough room for everyone.

Then there was the old codger, Reinhold, and news of that shifty thin man with the odd speaking habits, offing himself suddenly and without warning.

There were clearly some things about full blooded humans he would never be able to understand.

He huffed, then padded over to the injured old hunter.

"Hey 'ere ol' timer... ya still alive?"

The old man gave a weary grunt and a hard stare.

"I dun unnerstan' none a dis 'revenge' business ya got, but didya git what ya came fer?'

There was a pregnant silence, then 'yes.'

"Well, ya looks like shit. I prolly don' look much better muhself, but lemme have a lookatcha."

Reinhold raised his arms feebly from where he was laying, in a laxidasitical posture that screamed 'as if I could stop you' without saying anything.

'At wizard gone an' fucked us both, looks like. I's a boney shriveled up prune, an' yas' looks n smells like roasted pork. Well, at leas' one a us kin look a sight better in a bit.. jus' try ta relax..'

The bear settled in beside the man while the others caught and harnessed the horses, essentially curling up around him like a giant dog, or maybe a cat might, gently embraced the injured man from behind, and held him close.

"I'm not into that." Gruffed the old man crossly.

It took cedar a moment to process, but then he started laughing.

"Ain't wat it looks like fellar, hones'. You jus' fucked up good. Need all muh concentration, so gotta lay down, an fer it ta work, I gotta be holdin' ya. Don' get ya panties in a twist."

weary resignation dripped from the man's hoarse voice as he sighed in resignation. "Fine-- just get it over with."

Cedar chuckled mischievously, then sucked in a deep breath, held the man close, closed his eyes, then set to work with the magic.

Blue light glimmered all over the old man's body where-ever it was visible through his charred hunting outfit, as skin regrew, and charred flesh fell away to reveal healthy skin beneath. The man tensed as the unpleasant experience washed over, around, and through him, Caught in the bizarre talking creature's grip.

several seconds passed, then the light faded.

"Wooooof... muh head's swimmin..." drawled the bear, just before Reinhold elbowed him in the ribs.

"Let me up, you." The old man protested.

"Feelin better 'en?" Asked the bear, being cheeky.

"Yeah, fine, now cut it out."

Cedar chortled, rolled to the side and raised his arm and paw to release the distressed, no longer roasted old man, who got up, then tugged and shook his clothes, sending bits of charred skin tumbling out of his shirt and pants-- which still bore the tell-tale where the wizard's magic had torn through.

Cedar sat up shortly afterward himself, taking only a few moments to shake the dizziness from his head.

"They aint enuff horses." Cedar gruffed.

Reinhold stopped to look at the carriage, and made a dour face.
"I can see that."

"Would ya lend a bear a han' in roundin' s'more up? Horses be right cowardly thangs-- less willin' ta cuddle a bear an you is ol' timer." He joked. "And from what I sees, anuh we finds gunna need it, same as yuh did."

"Do I got a choice?"

"Well... s'pose we coul' jus' stay 'ere, git caught wit' our britches down, an' killed in our sleep, but I wouldna recommend it."

The old man closed his eyes, held a hand to his head as if he had just been subjected to the dumbest thing he had ever heard, shook it off with derision, then started walking.

"Enough-- let's just go get it over with.."

"Naw 'at's da spirit!" Drawled the bear happily, as the two plodded closer to the group to announce the plan.

"Hey yo! Me an' da ol' fellar gonna go roun' up more horses. We'll be right back."

The wagon was a modest carriage with a fully enclosed cabin and an additional passenger seat on its back side. Layers of leather were used as its suspension, and the cabin was wide enough to be occupied by four people. But it has no air conditioning, a minimum standard in Helvitia for a nobleman's carriage but apparently was not the case here for some reason.

"It seems they really did what I asked. Too specific to be honest down to every detail, nothing less and nothing more."

"A wagon and horses detached from each other? Yeah, that's specific alright,"said Kaito, appearing behind Jazdia when the elf inspects the wagon. A set of towing harnesses could be found inside the cabin when they opened the door.

"Oh, looks like they were not forgetting it." snickered the elf, taking a step back and ruffling Kaito's hair. "Well, guess who will attach the horse to the carriage!"

The fox let her have her fluff for a while. "Can't say no to the boss, eh? I'll do it. Though if we do the math, we still need more horses to take us all.

It seemed everyone agreed on that assessment. And as Matilda started to ask what to do now in her trademark passive-frantic queries. Cedar was the first to openly propose a solution,

"Hey yo! Me an' da ol' fellar gonna go roun' up more horses. What do yer say?"

Jazdia looked at the bear. While Matilda grunted and Kaito shrugged.

"The process of attaching the horses would take some time, but that's not what concerns me. I see no healthy horses anymore after that blazing and wet light show--"

Jazdia sighed, before giving the druid a nod. Here comes the crucial part. It should have been brief, but dealing with this druid would require an elaborate do and don't.

"If you can improvise, you do it. But don't get yourself into trouble. No peasant would be willing to part with their mules at this time, even if the beast is a wounded, malnourished donkey that can barely stand on its legs. Search the Baron's stable. It is in the western part of the city. Go for it, double time!"

"Dat be a good point. I's understood. be right back."

As Cedar off for another adventure, Jazdia already felt Matilda's impatient breath down on her neck.

"What are you doing? We don't have time for more hide and seek!"

"Yes, but the shortage of transportation is not a negligible problem either unless you prefer having the two of us staying. Considering the potential dangers ahead and our doubt about the Delvings, that's a handicap we can't afford."

Leaving Matilda, Jazdia mounted one of the horses and had a test run by circling the wagon several times. She would need a healthy and agile steed to escort the convoy.

"45 minutes," she announced. "We will depart in 45 minutes, with or without them. That's acceptable enough for you, Mattie?"

The orc did not answer save a low grunt as she escorted the prince into the carriage. When Kaito was already working on towing the second horse, Solomon cathed up.

"Welcome back. I... assume our Samurai didn't make it?"

---

Though Solomon spent some time with his attempt at saving Chounan, it appeared that the party had not left past the city gate. Despite having all the necessary pieces for departure, none of it was ensembled. Kaito was hooking together the ropes and straps from the carriage to the horses, and Jazdia was riding in circles. Solomon noticed Cedar leaving for another part of town, Reinhold tailing him. It looked as though the old hunter had new life instilled into him, which was comforting to see.

As the shadow quickly approached the carriage, a black formless mass rose from the ground as though it were growing from the earth. Solomon stepped out of it, not worried about potential gazes from bystanders be it of Silas’ men or the townsfolk should any be around. The shadow Solomon stepped from collapsed back into the earth, merging into the natural shade of Solomon’s form cast by the lowering rays of the sun.

“I’ve done all I could. I cannot tell you his reasons, I do not understand them myself. As it stands, I do not believe Chounan will be returning to us.” said Solomon. He then properly faced Jazdia, “I would ask how you’ve come across such knowledge, but I know some of your ways. I assume you informed the others then?”

Jazdia was aware that it was not a common topic to discuss, nor perfectly appropriate. But it was a mystery she wanted to be answered, both to sate her curiosity and for the formal rapport in the next meeting with Fredricus.

“I’ve done all I could. I cannot tell you he reasons, I do not understand them myself. But as it stands, I do not believe Chounan will be returning to us.” said Solomon.

Jazdia stopped her horse, tapping its mane akin to giving head pats to a boy. Solomon approached and properly faced her before continuing, “I would ask how you’ve come across such knowledge, but I know some of your ways. I assume you informed the others then?”

"I did, but it seems they were as indifferent as I was when hearing the news."

A pair of glowing, violet rings flared on the elf's irises as she channeled her magic into them. The change was barely noticeable in the place with sufficient lighting, but the gesture she made when focusing her sight usually enough to make people feel unnerved.

And with that, she glanced at the ground that was once blackened by the Doctor's shadowy spell, but then found no entity hidden beneath.
Shrugging, she added.

"My eyes could see the physical heart, but not what was going on inside it. Before we regrouped at Hdur, Chonan accidentally killed two restrained slaves during our effort to raid the Black Serpent Guild."

She wondered if everyone could notice the change in her expression. She had been trying to not frown, and recalling the situation in a distant tone, yet it still gave a bad taste in her mouth.

"It was the result of his own recklessness, an act of bravado to prove his worth if I could be so bold to assume. After the revelation, the man discarded his armor and hurt himself. We managed to have him back, but I presume the blunder has been gnawing his sanity ever since. Or it could be some other reason...? For a veteran with a lot of blood on his hands, the last collateral would have been rather insignificant. And he said he liked that Delving Maid. It was not something a suicidal man would say."

---

“I see. He spoke of an internal demon, it could have been this harbored regret.” said Solomon, “Though, I am in agreement with you. For a man of his skill and accomplishments, I wouldn’t have expected him to be affected as such. Or at least not enough to act as he did. One wonders if the Delving maid had somehow influenced his thoughts, if the Delvings are as cunning as you say.”

Solomon paused in thought. All he knew were stories about the house of Delving. This was the first he ever encountered them throughout their entire lives. Capable as they were at such young ages, anything could be possible.

“Then again, from all I’ve heard, he may have finally fell victim to his own emotional turmoil. He may have been suffering from internal conflict this entire time, and we failed to notice in our ignorance.”

Jazdia dismounted from the horse and caressed the animals' mane, still continuing the conversation with Solomon.

"Now you mentioned it, they do seem like a sibling. Though the maid was not as 'golden' as the admiral. Well, I did ask her about their relationship, and what is she to him."

"And her answer?"

"Just a mere servant, she said." Jazdia lifted a hand to let it bathe in the afternoon sunray and massaged her fingers as she continued. "If you ask me, her soul was not of the deceiving type, but she was telling an incomplete truth. Don't take my word for it though. It is safer to assume that she is also a Delving."

Despite saying that, Jazdia assessed that Solomon's theory didn't seem very cogent. If you are looking for someone who can influence someone with their power, that would be Baker. The Delvings' power seemed to be revolved around the barrier and utilization of cleansing magic. Usually, that kind of element would come with extra features like spell nullifiers, to mana siphoning.

But that was just a wild guess based on books she read a long time ago in the academy. A useful knowledge if you want to brag about your magical savviness amongst the commoners. Outdated and unreliable in the field application.

“Then again, from all I’ve heard, he may have finally fell victim to his own emotional turmoil." said Solomon, returning to the topic they had earlier. "He may have been suffering from internal conflict this entire time, and we failed to notice in our ignorance.”

The elf shook her head and stopped flexing her finger. It was apparent that Jazdia disliked the words Solomon had chosen and uttered, but she expressed that in her usual monotone.

"If we need someone to blame for his self-inflicted demise, that would be the man himself who craved an easy way out. I am sorry for the harshness of my words, but I have no respect for those who ended their life like that, no matter what words are used to twist it. Self-sacrifice, for the greater good, better to die honorable than to live in shame. That's hogwash all of it. Life is precious no matter what, and you should cherish your own."

---

Solomon could tell based on the various reactions from Jazdia that she didn’t agree with many of Solomon’s theories. In part, he couldn’t blame her. There were intricate subtleties that Solomon was not attuned to. Likewise, Jazdia’s last comment lacked the sort of incite that Solomon could recognize. Though dead men told no tales, Solomon could listen beyond such silence. Though none could hear, the dead spoke volumes.

“We are alike in that regard.” said Solomon, “Life is precious and should be preserved.”

It did not take terribly long to retrace the path back to the keep. Nobody wanted to be up there, it seemed.

Incidentally, that made searching what was left of the stable an uncontested affair. Much like Jazdia predicted, the villagers were hard at work assessing their livestock and properties, and would indeed surely notice-- and care very deeply-- about somebody making off with their horses-- wounded or not.

The livery stable was a nice, but not overly elaborate 10 stall affair, with more than half of it either burned or collapsed. The charred remains of five unlucky horses graced the destroyed end of the barn, the blackened curls of bone and bits of hoof being in the first stall, and varying degrees of "cooked" in the next four.

Three of the stalls had no sign they were occupied while the structure burned-- and at the very far end, one stall was half burned, and the other collapsed when the roof caved in from the flames and the winds caught it. Two unfortunate (or very fortunate, depending on your outlook on the matter) souls were found inside. In the charred one, a badly burned blue rhone laid on its side, gasping for air. In the collapsed stall beside, a lovely chestnut with black mane and tail laid prone beneath the ridgepole that had fallen in, breathing hard but paralyzed from the injury.

"That's bad-- We should put them both down." rasped Reinhold, shaking his head at the sight. "We'd be better off trying to find the three that ran off. They shouldn't be too hard to find-- the ground's real soft. They'd be easy to track."

"Take tuh long-- ain't got da time. We gotta git while da gitt'ns good." Cedar gruffed, pawing his nose at the rank smell of burned flesh and smoke that cloyed the air where the barn used to be.

"These ones are as good as dead!" the old man countered. "hell, They could go any damn moment!"

"At means nuh-one'll miss em." responded the bear flatly

Reinhold held his hand to his head, as if Cedar had just outdone himself on saying the single dumbest thing he had ever heard that day. "How do you expect to ride a horse missing half its skin, and another with a shattered neck, and probably broken legs?"

"How duh ya es'pect ta rustle horses wit an ol' fool zapped by a crook'd ol' conjuror?" Cedar countered coarsely. "Ya fix em up fir', at's how." He moved to the burned and gasping horse, which tried to protest at his approach with fear and screaming, but was unable to rise, and instead just snorted red foam. "Dis gunna be hard-- Dey's scared outta dey're minds. Duh me a favor, an' go says nice thangs ta da brown one o'er dere. Calm 'er daown while's I work o'er 'ere--"

"You cant be.... Fine" Reinhold groaned, then crawled into the remains of the collapsed stall, before sitting on the ground next to the prone mare inside, placing his hands on it, and trying to sound reassuring. "It'll be OK pony-- The crazy talking bear over there will come spoon your butt while you try to die like a decent fella, and make you all better."

"I hearded dat...-- Ya radder still be estra crispeh roas' pork? Give at fucker da satisfaction a killin' ya AN' Ya frien', aft'r ya track em fer days on end? Die face-daown inna dirt, same as him?"

"Shut the fuck up."

"'At's what I figur'd. 'Ese 'ere horses don' wanna die neader. So we helps em. Same as you."

Reinhold gruffed, then gently patted the bay behind its ears. "Pay no attention to that crazy bear. He's nuts, and thinks he knows something."

"'Ats more like it."

Cedar laid down beside the gasping, wild eyed horse, pressing his face gently against its own, and looking straight into the eye on that side of its head, clearing his thoughts and arranging them to be easy to understand.

The horse was full of terror. Suffocating, and in unbearable pain. It did not know what had happened, or how it had been hurt like this. It wanted to escape the fire, and tried to seek shelter, but this was what it had found instead-- and now a meat eating monster had come for it, and it could not run. Terror reverberated off pain, and painted a gristly tapestry in its mind.

Cedar did his best to be a source of calmness; Soothing, reassuring, instructional.

'breathe' and 'you wont die today, if you trust.' being concepts woven into a collage of what she should expect, and what he would do next. Incredulity, and resounding terror mocked his efforts, but he held fast, and worked anyway, carefully slipping behind the horse, leaning his head over it's neck to remain in close face-touching contact, eye-to-eye.

He laid his heavy arm over the top of its neck with one arm, stroking it gently, while tugging the beast close with the other. Blue light erupted like fire over the damaged skin. The horse tensed. Nostrils flared. The eyes darted with wide whites-- all the while, the bear-man held and stroked, while breathing hard and slow, laboring under the magic.

Time passed, then the light abated. The horse made nasty faces and stuck out its tongue repeatedly, trying to get the taste of its own blood out of its mouth.

"'Eree naow..... Erre naow..." he crooned, then nuzzled the grey's head affectionately. "All be'er naow..."

He released the horse, which staggered to its feet, squealed, snorted then turned and looked at the still prostrate bear with wild, incredulous eyes, nostrils flaring at the air, tail swishing, with ears darting between being forward and back.

Cedar was tired. This was hard work, and still not done.

"You OK over there bear?"

"Mind ya own bizness, ya ol' bastard!" he crooned back. "Jus' gimme a minute. 's Hard work ya know? Go see ta da laydee o'er dere. I'sll be up in a jiffy." Cedar waved his paw irritably in the air in the general direction toward the now mended blue rhone, which now sported bright white patches where the burned flesh had been, marring its otherwise beautiful smokey coat.

"Fine, but I'm not making out with it like you did." then down at the horse he was only half-assedly trying to calm "Better watch out- he's a hugger."

"Shut the fuck up-- dunno what ya goin' on 'bout. -- Ain't inta horses."

Reinhold cackled and wheezed as he clambered up out of the ruined stall, and moved to stroke and pet the dismayed rhone, tossing its mane with his fingers, and rubbing its nose, while cedar rolled, sat up, shook his head, then tried to get into the next stall over, failed miserably, then resorted to lifting and tossing the fallen roof beam like a caber-- the old hunter laughing harder and harder the whole time.

"ya don' shutup ya gonna suck in a fly." the bear said flatly before settling into position with the next horse, and repeating the process-- Blue light blaring around the horse's crushed neck and head, along with parts of its butt and legs. The bay shrieked a dismayed whinny, snorted then bolted to its feet the instant it was able, crowding in beside its companion, nostrils blaring and tail swishing, staring at the bear in the remains of its stall.

Cedar needed a drink. Something with some alcohol in it. Maybe a nice bottom ale. Good and brown-- and a whole bowl of salted nuts. Damn that would be good.

"Dey gunna need names." he wheezed, then labored to get up onto 4 legs.

Reinhold's horse laugh paused only long enough to gasp for air, before pointing at the bay-- "Schnitzel" then at the Rhone "And extra crispy!" The old man was having a hard time keeping air in his lungs. "So..." he wheezed. "Which one you ridin?"

"SHUT UP, an' help meh git em back daown wit' da odders." cedar protested, then staggered upright, then wobbled for a second before starting a fairly brisk walk. "Ain't got all day."

Jazdia was already on a horse's back when she saw the two sped up to reach the meeting point. Clutching her antique, pocketwatch, the elf marked the 25 minutes had passed, pretty fast for such a tight deadline.

Cedar and Reinhold brought them two horses. Looked healthy physically, but rather questionable on the mental side; looked reluctant and giddy as if fear was still gripping their psyche. She assumed the beasts must have suffered terrible would before Cedar's healing spell did its wonder to them. Thankfully they seemed to be slightly calmed when they got closer to the rest of the steed.

"Right on time!" Said Jazdia as she rode past Cedar. "Get some rest at the back of the wagon. And you, Hunter, take a driver's seat with Kaito."

Jazdia pointed at the disguised fox youkai now standing next to the already arranged wagon set before giving up more orders.

"Mister Solomon, kindly take one of the horses and follow the wagon. Miss, Rosenving, I actually planned to delegate this task to Chonan, but sadly he preferred to meet his maker." Jazdia straightened her posture and announced to everyone. "That's right, he killed himself." then leaning forward toward the petite noblewoman again, continuing in a slightly annoyed tone. "So, you will replace him and join our good doctor as our rear guard."

The elf yanked the reins and trotted back to the carriage, ensuring everything was ready for their departure. "Miss BlackWater, please accompany our prince and Madam Matilda inside."

I think that's all. She said, guiding her steed to take a position in front of the carriage. 'If you have any objection, say it now. Though I am afraid we wouldn't have enough time to resolve it."

---

"He what?" Veronica couldn't quite believe what she'd just heard about the samurai. Granted, she'd not known him well in the slightest, but he'd always seemed enthusiastic... over the top even. What could have driven him to do such a thing? "Was there no evidence of foul play?" She grimaced. "Could someone have used magic to make him end himself?" she asked Solomon, glancing around furtively and idly checking that her brown cloak still hung concealingly on her body, before shaking her head. "I suppose it matters little now." Honestly, that would be the worst, to suddenly have to worry about being hunted and picked off by that sort of magic. She wasn't sure if she wanted her spurt of paranoia to be right or not, because the alternative was the ronin had committed suicide for... no reason she could honestly begin to guess at or understand.

She was highly tempted to run back to find and inspect Chonan's corpse herself to see if she could uncover any further clues in the area, but who knew how much precious time that might waste. The priority now was getting the prince safely home. Everything else was secondary.

"No objections from me." The vampire nodded Jazdia's way and did as she bid, slipping into the carriage with the Prince and Matilda. She didn't see any sense in delaying things with arguments over positioning, and let it never be said a vampire would turn down the chance to stay out of the sunlight. While her magic could protect her, there was something to be said for the simple mental security of taking cover enough to not explicitly need to use it.

The elf woman, Jazdia, seemed very eager to be underway, as did the orc woman, Matilda. He himself, was also eager to be away from this place.

He hated what had happened here. He hated that he had played a significant part in the demolition of this town. In the ruining of the lives of the people here. In a more forgiving world, where there weren't madmen out to do this or worse to other towns, in other nations, all over the place-- In that more forgiving world, he would stay and put things right. He HATED leaving these people in such a bad state. While perhaps not the kind of housing they were used to, or would really find favorable, there WERE ways to get certain kinds of trees to grow and mesh together into something resembling a home using magic. He had seen the rotting remains of them in part of mystville forest, though his dad did not like to discuss where they had come from, or who had once lived there. He had not been eager to press for that knowledge either; The place reeked of old death, decay, and corruption. (the very same kinds of corruption he and his dad tended to spend most of the summer tackling together.) That by itself was not reason to have prejudice against the idea of the structures though. Here, with still a small amount of warm weather yet before all the leaves drop-- It could be managed. It would take the rest of the month most likely, but at least the people would have places to live in when the winter hit. Hell, living houses like that require less upkeep even. They just look funny.

Jazdia indicated that he should climb into the back of the carriage.

Why is it people did not understand that you can't put this kind of weight back here? Cargo goes UNDER the carriage, or ON TOP of the carriage. If he climbed on back there, it would tip the whole thing and try to lift the horses into the air.

He shook his head, then climbed up directly over the rear axle, then very slowly and very carefully spread out over the luggage rack on top. It was not very comfortable, and he was sure it looked stupid as hell, but at least he wouldn't tip the carriage over up there-- So long as he didn't move around much. He sure hoped they didnt intend to try and drive the thing at breakneck speed. He'd need to be lashed down, and he didn't like that idea at all.

---

Solomon crossed his arms as his gaze shifted to Veronica. His silence was enough to answer Veronica’s question. The realization of Chounan’s death and the circumstances around it had garnered a variety of reactions. Unfortunately, circumstances didn’t give any of them much time to grieve let alone process his fate. Furthermore, there was no time to retrieve his body for a proper burial. He was now left with the remainder of the survivors, left to be counted among those they had lost.

“Alright, the horse it is.” said Solomon, he excused himself from Jazdia and moved to where Reinhold was holding the two newly acquired steeds. Since he was told to take the drivers seat, he traded hold of the reins with him. Solomon was able to swing himself over the back of the steed with some difficulty expected of a man of his age. The drapes of his garments covering most of the saddle. He patted the side of the horse’s neck. The horse was gray almost blue. Though Solomon could tell it had been treated though Cedar’s generous magic, it was obvious how close to death the beast was. Once he was settled, he turned his head one way, and then another.

“Petra, if could, keep with the carriage. With your range, you may better assist any direction trouble may appear.” said Solomon. Petra was hovering nearby, but didn’t participate in the conversation. Though she knew of Chounan’s demise, she didn’t know of the circumstances. To her, it didn’t matter. As soon as Solomon’s conversation ended with Jazdia, so did her interest in the matter. She looked at Solomon, sighed, and then slowly flew towards the carriage. She paused a moment as she watched the bear climb up the side of it. It shook and tilted with his weight, but thankfully didn’t tip over.

“Are you comfortable, bear?” she asked, finally approaching the carriage in full. Her spectral head was at the same level as Cedar’s allowing them to look at each other face to face. Or rather, face to ghostly face. Petra’s physical body was more level with the window of the carriage, letting her otherwise perfectly preserved face be in view. For probably the first time Petra smiled, though it was obviously coy. She found amusement in the travel arrangements that had to be made for the party.

It was still several hours before the sun sunk at the western plain when the party set out from Fanghorn. Jazdia took the lead, with the cart following behind her. Reinhold was their coachman, with Kaito sitting behind him to ensure the vehicle drove on the intended path. No offense, but the hunter was still an unknown quality to her, and to see how grief could devastate a man like Chonan, a preventive measure should be at the ready.

"Hey back 'dere-- Could on a ya fetch ma boots 'n beatin' stick? Muh daddy made 'em boots!"

Yelled Cedar as the group passed the turn where they had hidden the old wagon.

Yvonne looked at the doctor for a moment, then broke away and into the trees, only to emerge a short while later with a large stick tied to the side of the saddle, and noticeably more stuffed saddle bags.

"Got 'em!" Yvonne shouted, before falling back in line.

They only slowed down when reaching the settlement scattered along the road from Fanhorn to Pesti. Initially intended to avoid the attention, but rather moot with the wagon having bear perched atop of its roof. And thus, such sightings became a small novelty to amuse disconsolate peasants and passersby.

Jazdia kept gripping her bow in one hand while the other unfixedly held the reins, ready to reach her arrow should the need arises. On her left and right was a swath of tilth with many orchards planted, but due to the storm earlier, it seemed they were having a crop failure, and many peasants could be seen salvaging the fruits that fell prematurely.

Another dozen kilometers had been covered without any portents. The group arrived at the remnants of the thorny wall that was supposed to block the road, courtesy of Cedar the Druid. But now it seemed someone had mowed through, creating a gap in the rosy hedge enough for two horses to walk through it side by side. Jazdia did not hear what they spoke of back them, but she figured someone might question how and who. Didn't really matter to her. The wagon passed without a hitch and they could put up more speed afterwards.

The sun was no longer on the horizon when the group slowed down again to a trot. Still leading Jazdia reached her arrow and breathed her power into it, causing the arrowhead to glow in soft purplish light, and with that, she signaled the group to stop. Kaito would know that this was the time to light up a lantern so the rearguard didn't lose the convoy.

When everything was all set, the elf detected another rider headed toward her. The alert, however, immediately dropped when her eyes scanned through the darkness and saw a certain maid trotting with a lantern hung on her saddle.

"Greetings, madam. The admiral sent me to guide." she said.



From the distance, the two seemed to be having a lengthy conversation, though nobody could hear the words uttered. On some occasions, the maid glanced at the party before talking to Jazdia again. It looked intense for a brief while, Jazdia could be seen nodding, pointing in the general direction of Fanghorn while the maid then having a facepalm.

After more pointings and affirmative gestures, the maid canter ahead of them. Her white silhouette and dimed light persisted for a while before being swallowed in the pitch black.

And finally, Jazdia signaled the team to continue their journey.

---

As the hours passed the group by, Veronica relaxed a bit more with the sun dropping below the horizon, now feeling free to release her warding magic and begin periodically peering around for danger. Even from inside the carriage, she was more than capable of keeping watch. After all, what kind of Seer would she be if she couldn't do this much when visibility was at its lowest for her companions?

So it was that the vampire made a periodic habit of casting her scrying gaze out the window of the carriage and into the night. When the carriage began to slow down, her brow pinched in concern. And when the convoy came to a full stop, she frowned. "I'll see what's happening." Shooting Matilda a single raised brow, she closed her eyes and cast her Sight forth.

In her mind's eye, she could see the cart from the outside, as she glanced around. If "her" eyes could have narrowed, they would have at the sight of someone approaching the procession from the direction they were heading. Her Sight moved forward, following along behind the elf, Jazdia, who had briefly been fiddling with an arrow that glowed dimly with purple light. The one approaching them was a maid, and Jazdia rode to meet her. Veronica's Sight fuzzed a bit, accompanied by sound, as she paid attention to the exchange.

Back in the carriage, Veronica's expression twisted from a frown, to neutral, then a frown again at the reminder of Chonan's strange demise. As these events occurred in real-time, her mouth was moving, conveying to Matilda, "A lone rider approaches, and Jazdia rides to speak with her. It's a maid that claims to be a guide sent from the Admiral. She inquired after our dip in numbers and was rebuffed. Jazdia questioned her intentions, and the maid apologized for sounding intrusive. Jazdia is... explaining Chonan's demise. The maid seems exasperated." As the conversation seemingly drew to a close as amicably as could be hoped for, Veronica sighed and shook her head, releasing her spell. "Jazdia seems to have found no overt reason for suspicion, so we shall be following the maid."

Jazdia activated her eyes, deactivated them to look at the map, then reactivate them again to verify the route they take. The road was calm with nothing unusual afoot. Their guide so far was still playing nice with the entire arrangement, and although the land and the road were strange to her, the elf didn't let cautiousness slow down their journey. Their countermeasures were already as strong as it was. They had Veronica as their early-warning system, and she has her eyes for a direct detector against ambush.

When they reached another crossroad, Jazdia opened her map again as a standard procedure. And activated her communication device.

"Good night, Baker. I assume there was nothing unusual at your end?"

There was a few second delays before the earpiece sounded the reply from the other end. "The road is clear... and if you don't believe what I say, your girl is napping next to me."

"My girl?"

"That blindfolded gal you picked on your way from Rascade." answered Baker, intentionally sounding it like describing a stray cat. "He was with me on the lookout."

Jazdia was almost choked by the air she was breathing. "You--Baker, If I heard you right, then I don't know what else to say other than hoping you know what you are doing."

"I figure you'd say that. She has been a nice girl, don't you worry. I have my reason to take her on a stroll. The suppressor might kill her, and her power can also kill her if I let it build up inside her. So, I do what a good guardian must do and let her unleash some of it on some unfriendly passersbies.

Jazdia paused to rearrange her breathing. No matter what she did, she lost the battle with her own mind; she has a powerful living weapon in her custody, and her plan for her must be addressed sooner or later.

"Don't worry, it was also for your own benefit as well," said Baker again, breaking the silence.

"I have heard that phrase too many times this day alone. But whatever, if you can 'read' her, that was not very surprising."

A hearty cackle could be heard from the other end. "So, nothing else from you as well? Delving has been a good friend?"

"Still remain to be seen."

"Good enough for me. Anyway, I am heading back now. It's night already and I have a kid in my care."

"Yeah, thanks for doing this. Baker."

"Yeah... be safe out there, I know you will. What I do not know is, what we, a bunch of retirees are doing out here, relieving the old days? National interest and security? Feels like I am a true Kindeance now..."

The communication was cut off without giving Jazdia a chance to answer. Almost like Baker was ashamed of his own sardonic comment. It was a shame though, riding on a lonely road with nothing else to do had made even a talk with Baker sound like an interesting activity.

Another two hours had passed, and Jazdia didn't bother anymore to count how many kilometers they have traversed. The convoy maintained its speed and all was quiet Jazdia for once though everyone inside the carriage was sleeping.

When she looked forward again, she saw two specks of light in the darkness. Jazdia had her ultravision activated and saw five men camping on the roadside. They didn't seem alerted when the convoy passed through, save a few glances toward the incoming gallopers. They were indeed armed, but their presentations didn't seem like people that were there for combat.

Another kilometer passed, and she saw similar campers again. Now looked more like traveling merchants with burden beasts and roofed cart. But.. as ridiculous as it sounded, no less than seven men were being packed inside that small cart. She was ready to nock an arrow, but thankfully nobody was stupid enough to instigate hostility.

They reached the bridge now, and anyone who was still awake would easily notice another remnant of a wall of thorns. Jazdia who had her eyes peeled since they passed that weird wagon was focused more on the structural damage caused by the overground and immediately notified Kaito to slow down and cross it with caution.

The road was quiet, and Jazdia barely picked up any sign of heat signature when looked at the treelines. The Delvings were still ahead. Though the admiral was beyond the range of her vision, the maid was not far, riding almost by her lonesome through the darkness and only looking back at some occasions.

It was almost too easy. After yet another long haul, they finally arrived at Hdur. The town too, was quiet, but not devoid of life. Some townsfolk could be seen hanging out at the plaza, and guards were patrolling. It was still nine o'clock when Jazdia looked at her pocket watch.

The Delvings, that had been their foremost outriders were nowhere to be seen. She did not see which turn they took.

The group made their last stop here, right in front of Baker's Inn. Jazdia parked her horse and sit on the bench on the bakery terrace, taking a moment of respite. There was still a considerable distance between Hdur and Rascade, but at least the road ahed was a lot safer now.

Cedar took the moment to get down off of the carriage, and move around. Being up there was not at all comfortable, and holding still for so long was not good for the circulation.

Discretely, he slipped away and out of sight for a few moments to deal with toileting, then returned back to the elven man's inn.

His fur and robes were still caked with mud, now crusty and dried in place and not at all suited to entering an eating establishment, so he decided to politely inquire through the door about getting any extra day-old products that they would otherwise have to just toss out.

(In his childhood growing up with his family-- such as it was-- the very idea of "extra" when it came to food was a nonsense suggestion. However, the topic had come up later in life, once his dad had decided he was old enough to go drinking with. That is to say, Any food cooked, was food that was eaten-- Even if everyone had plenty when it was prepared and brought out. Food simply did not sit around long at home-- if nothing else, his mom would habitually just claim it, and pack it away. "Saving things for later" was a thing his dad did, and only his dad did-- and that was specifically to survive the winter with. In this case, he was aware that store keepers would make a certain amount of product for casual one-off sales, many routine orders for the village residents who should come and make pickups-- usually such orders were paid in advance or had very reliable business relationships to cover them-- and most of the excess would be recycled into the next day's offerings, where possible. That said though. there were circumstances where the casual baked products just did not draw customers, and were too abundant to recycle into new products the day after. Baker and his family would either have to eat this themselves, or toss it out. He was hopeful to score some of this "extra." He was also mindful that simply asking, did not mean he would be GETTING-- an important distinction-- but you never know for sure, until you ask first.)

He wasn't picky-- but he was VERY hungry. As long as it was not covered in mold or something, it would be fine.

Dusting himself off as best he could, despite the tenaciousness of the mud, he sauntered up to the door and knocked politely.