---

The back of his right hand should already be facing Linceleste the moment he was in her sights. Evidently the spikes aren't skewering it anymore, neither present were any wounds they would have left. In their place were indented scars, spots of thin skin slightly paler than himself.

『 Ludvig 』 "I'm fine. See?"

"I assumed you use healing magic to recover it fast. That will do." Linceleste seemed to be convinced by Ludvig's treatment of his wound. Magic or treating it physically still leaves a mark because a new tissue has grown back differently from the original one. It was a stab wound rather than a first layer of skin had been damaged; marks are expected.

Linceleste accepted the offer of Ludvig. Having the boiled milk in her hands. She stared at the hot milk and ignored the phrase about him having to accompany her for the further time alone in the current room. After that, she took a sip, savoring the taste of the milk. It seemed fine.

"Leans back onto the cupboard. Takes a final, huge sip from his cup of coffee.

『 Ludvig 』 "You definitely have your mother's hair. Not her eyes though, hers were a lot more... striking."

At that, Linceleste stared at the man as he mentioned her appearances and her mother.

"Most of my siblings have my mother's hair color and our eyes from my father," she replied. "You know my mother?" She continued by asking.

Hmm.

Ludvig placed the magically cleaned cup set back in the cupboard he took them from, while he mulled over how he'd go about answering the question.
And then, it clicked in his mind. The most efficient solution for him.

^{『 Ludvig 』} "Uhh... I believe I'm somewhat of an unreliable narrator... Maybe that's something Adele should tell you herself."

Walks towards Linceleste, right arm reaching past her and towards the three iron spikes and the torn rag that began disappearing upon touch. His shadow casts entirely upon her for a moment.

^{『 Ludvig 』} "Think of it as an opportunity to bond. I'm sure you two don't get a lot of those.
Should also be extra motivation for you to stay alive. Yes?"

Winks at her with a smile that visibly, immediately fades as soon as his glance moves away from her, along with his whole body, already heading for the door out.
Waves his right hand, not bothering to glance back at her.

^{『 Ludvig 』} "Good night, señorita York."

_{A little while more...}

He sighed.
Lying down on the leftmost third row of the church benches on the building's main hall. Knees hanging over the armrest, left arm pillowing her head as he raised his right hand amidst the rays of moonlight emitting from stained glass windows.

Didn't really feel like sleeping with everyone else in the communal dormitory, especially with the stunt he did just pull.
Plus, he's been homeless for too long that he'd definitely fail to sleep peacefully on bed cushions.

It's all better this way. He had no regrets.
Not one.

Carmen was leaving, and if there's time to grill him for more information in private it had to be now. Mirielle finished what little left of her soup in two big gulp, muttering a small prayer of thanks before getting up much quieter this time. The witch's pointed words weren't lost on her, though she never regretted preparing to outright leap over the table to stab her with a butter knife should the retribution be disproportionate. And it would take more than some unverified statements to shake her conviction.

"Do not presume to lecture me, witch. I know well the Order is not perfect. But for all its fault, the world will be a darker place without it." Was this the angle? Try to make her doubt her trust? If so, the witch had chosen the wrong target to needle. "Have a good evening, and stay out of trouble."

With that, Mirielle briskly strode after her once junior.

---

“Well then. I guess this was as good a start as any as far as ice breakers go.” said Osric, “myself included. I admit I have some apprehensions on how the mission is going to go. But at least we have some good company. If nothing else, I need to make more of a connection to Amanita. This wine is delicious. If it weren’t for our early start, I’d pour myself another glass.” Osric finished whatever food and drink he had left before picking up his rifle he left leaning against his chair. He turned and sat back down preparing to finish his inspection.

“At the very least, it feels more like a merc group. With everyone wary of each other, but the end goal keeping us together. I don’t know, with how reverent the church is an all, this makes it feel a little more down to earth. It has a certain charm to it, and brings some comfort. I’m sure Ludvig could agree if he were here. How about you, Rezello? This feel like those carefree camaraderie from missions in your past?”

---

After the circus man left the room. Linceleste is still there, finishing her cup of milk. Thinking about how that man knew her mother. Yet he doesn't know that it is quite the opposite from what he said about her and her mother's relationship. Their relationship made her treated as special among the rest of the siblings with her mother. Was it about the inheritance? She kept thinking about it until she noticed that she emptied her cup as she attempted to take a sip. She sighed and did Clean As You Go before she left the kitchen.

Linceleste changed her attire into a white sleeping dress that seemed to be distributed by female caretakers in the shared quarter. She did also have time to comb her hair and make a Boho braid for her protective sleep hairstyle. She seemed to notice Lady Mirielle already in the room before her; she respectfully left that maiden alone for her peaceful sleep. I did a prayer after the preparation and laid down on the bed. She skipped remembering any thoughts because of what Carmen said to them, as they wanted to depart early in the morning. Linceleste calmed her muscles to relax and began the breathing method. After a few minutes, she will be seen sleeping and will be the earliest to awaken from the group. 

Brisk, purposeful footsteps echoed through the hallways where Mirielle treaded with familiarity. While the entire complex was pretty sizable, personal space was still a luxury that few enjoyed. Spoke volumes that Carmen was afforded a single room, at how high he had climbed the rank unnoticed by most.

She idly noted the lack of personnel, adding an eerie dash to the supposedly solemn air. Many was temporarily sent away for one reason or another, she noticed. The Archbishop took secrecy more seriously than he ever did before. The fact resoubled her resolve, yet also strengthen the doubt on the choice of team members. Why go to such extent concealing their departure, only to pick some of the least stable individuals she had ever met?

All can be answered by the man she seek. Hopefully.

Arriving at the door, she saw the light escaping underneath the crack of the door and quickly rapped on the sturdy old wood thrice.

"Carmen." Said the ex-inquisitor, hardy tone completely businesslike. "We are overdue some words, I believe."

"Very well, come in" The man answered.

Mirielle did not hesitate, entering into the living quarter provided to the captain. Pale yellow eyes flickered to drink in the sight, finding it just about the same as it was before. It's on the smaller side, just enough to fit the basic necessities like the bed and a desk and a simple foldable rack while leaving enough room to move around. A travel trunk sat untouched at one side, evidently Carmen hadn't started unpacking... if he ever had the intent to in the first place. They both leave early tomorrow after all.

"The penitent, really?" Mirielle only afforded enough time to close the door behind her before cutting straight into the heart of the matter. "You and I both know her presence is as much a liability as it is a boon. Moreso if her strength is half of what the stories told. Why are we risking it on such a long mission?"

"Sauniere's plan." Answered Carmen, dragging away an extra chair so both of them could sit. "Well, go ahead, knowing you this will be anything but brief. Like I am one of the cultists in an interrogation room. Anyway, like I said, it was the Archbishop's plan. Not that I object. Our time is short as it is, no thanks to that elf from the council. One more hand joining this mission is a massive boon as you said. So what's the problem?" He took his seat, back ramrod straight and attention fully ahead. "And yes, penitent and all. Well, they didn't tell you, did they? Not even Sauinere did. Let's say for the safety of The Archbihop, it is better if she is with us rather than leaving her here."

Mirielle took the offered seat, straddling it backward with her chin resting on the back. Not very formal of her, but it's Carmen. She can unwind a bit.

What followed was a rare bout of hesitation, the ex-inquisitor seemingly picking her words carefully for once. Conflicts rarely rose in her decision making process, but that only meant she's stuck at the rare occasions it happened.

"To be honest, I..." She paused, one hand flicking a strand of hair away from her eyes, idly twirling the end before letting go. "I have less reservation of her right now. Just a bit. She knows how to control herself, that's better than most. But still water runs deep, remember? The control ring isn't completely foolproof, and that far away from the Order there's too many ways this could go wrong."

Sighing in a mix of frustration and exasperation, Mirielle couldn't help to recall that witch's words said moments after Carmen's departure. The Archbishop had enemies, and they'll not hesitate pulling him down if it help them rise to his place. Did someone caught wind of their plan and hoisted the landmine that was the Blackthorn Witch to Saunieré and hope the problems solved itself?

This was why she hated politics. They're almost always synonymous with underhanded maneuvers, the exact opposite of the scriptures. Yet all that was mere speculations at the end of the day, and she couldn't tell where reasonable deduction ends and where paranoia began.

"...you're right again, of course you are. If she's with us we could turn a potential catastrophe into a major asset. But I really dont like this, old friend. Play with fire and we'll get burned sooner or later." She shook her head, but when her gaze stopped on Carmen all the doubt and hesitation had been replaced with grim determination. "But we're no stranger to fire and danger, are we? Once more into the fray, as we did before."

Carmen didn't seem to return the sentiment. Or at least showing a similar level of zeal. "Indeed we are. But the decision wasn't about daring a risk but a necessity. I just want to help people, and if we have to bring a sledgehammer, so be it. Besides, the arrangement seems like a win-win for everyone, We keep her away from Sauiniere's back. She gets her freedom and we have her loyalty at least until Thomas is found..."

The word was cut short as if there was more to it, but Carmen didn't say. Instead he inquired.

"Say, what do you know about the locals in Sielse?"

Mirielle knew she had reached the limit of what could be pried out. She'd already gotten over her greatest concern, and pushing for more was both unnecessary and will strain their relationship. Recognizing the change of topic for what it was, she played along with a curious tilt of the head.

"Sielse? Not much. I know Sir Thomas lost contact there, and that it's a land torn by the ongoing civil war. There's nothing especially notable otherwise... is there?"

"Civil war." Stressed Carmen "Mirielle, I hope you are as cautious as I am to understand that our mission might not be entirely peaceful at all. Please Keep that in mind."

Then he shrugged. " Well if that's all, good night."

"The entire region is filled with desperate people, and people do unspeakable things under such circumstances." Though hearing about it and experiencing it directly was two different beasts. Mirielle had the vague feeling that she should know of it, idly tucking a bleached strand behind her ear, but nothing come to memory. "I will keep that in mind. It is but another trial of our conviction, and we shall prevail. We always do."

Mirielle stood up, keeping a confident poise though her hand itched for the reassuring weight of a blade. She seldom met a problem that could neither be stabbed or hoisted to her superiors, and her nerve quivered in a mixture of vague dread and anticipation. She barely remembered to mutter "good night" before the door closed behind her, only for a missed tidbit from a few moments back to resurface.

"Wait, freedom?"

Turning around revealed the thick door blocking her way, and though she could've knocked again this matter felt too inane to intrude yet another time. It's already inappropriate to be visiting him this late in the night... with a shrug, Mirielle strolled back to the shared quarters as she mumbled softly to herself.

"If this is to be the last one... perhaps I was too harsh with her?"

____
Captain Carmen Andario Friston walked through that corridor again, not a step wasted without a silent prayer. Sharply dressed with his trusty Galero, he wore a blue navy uniform with black trousers and a traveling coat. His sabre had been polished and now dangled on his left hip.

He had woken up early, but he was hardly the only one. The Helvetian clerics had already started their daily routine before the rooster began crowing, ready to man their stations. Some had prepared their breakfast, while the others attended morning Prayers with the archbishop.

Everyone was already there, so he sat down, recited another prayer, and participated in their communal breakfast.



"This tunnel leads to Arche, a village east of the capital." Said Saunière, gesturing to his disciples to open a large trap door in the Church Library. "Our ancestors built it many years ago as an evacuation route and no one besides the congregation knows where it ends."

The thud of that wooden door and the dust that puffed out afterward made the archbishop take some steps back.

"I am sorry Children, I wish there was a better route than a dusty old tunnel to start your journey."

"It's out of necessity, so it is what we'll take." Carmen said.

"Indeed. The supplies and your horses have been waiting for you in Arche. One of my disciples is standing by at the crossroad to guide you to your transport."

"Thank you, Archbishop." Carmen bowed, and Saunière patted his shoulder. "Bring them back safely. I know you can. You too, Mirielle, I can't say your journey will be easy, but try to face everything with compassion and patience. May God protect you, and may you never stray from the path of righteousness."

When Carmen made his way down to that tunnel, followed by the others, their journey had begun. The last prayer Saunière recited was still echoing in his head.



Meanwhile, at another corner of the city, The Peacekeeper current director Jazdia Crystalspark was enjoying her tea time at the HQ's cafeteria when a concierge approached her.

"Good morning Frau Crystalspark, I hope you don't mind the intrusion, but I have a letter for you. From Seine Exzellenz Saunière."

"The Archbishop?" the elven woman inquired. "He delivered it in person?"

"Nein, gnädige Frau, one of his klerikerinnen did, said it is for you."

The concierge showed her a white envelope and carefully placed it on the table. Meanwhile, Jazdia wondered what this was all about. Didn't she already sign the clearance yesterday? Why did they have to pester her this early in the morning?

She glanced at the concierge, acknowledged the letter with a nod, and thanked him.

"Not another mother's sob stories again, I hope."

The letter was... unexpected. It was a recommendation letter for someone named Amaris Mallory, a Sarkaz who apparently had been in The Order's detention for almost a decade and probably needed asylum because she held important information.

Jazdia folded the letter and stored it in her satchel bag.

"Unexpected and unusual," she muttered, squeezing a slice of lemon into her cup. The letter looked more like a distraction than anything, why now, why today, and why that person? And more importantly, Who was that person?

Surely she would find a record or two about this Amaris in their database, but God knew her schedule wouldn't allow that. Was this some trick to make her spend all day inside an archive room? And they thought she would fall for it? Come on.

For someone as cunning as Saunière, he should have tried better. That Pontifical Guard slash ex-inquisitor knew better how to get his job done.

She sipped her tea and recalled the meeting yesterday, believing this bizarre letter was meant to veer her attention from The Order's biggest complaint; The Council's reluctance to send off a rescuing party. And to respond to that, they sent their high-ranking field officer to negotiate.

"Stubborn...", Jazdia thought, with a bit of amusement, rare was the day when someone could claw something out of her hand.

This Ex-Inquisitor Carmen Friston insisted that whether or not she signed up that clearance was irrelevant, but he had hoped that she did. Because they will go regardless, and they will use all resources at their disposal to besmirch the credibility of her organization if she keeps stalling this mission. Decades of tenure in this line of work convinced Jazdia that it was not an empty threat.

So she had the clearance letter inked, hoping nothing disastrous would come out of it.

If it were up to her, she would show him the door, but her idealism would only get her so far in this political circus. Saunière too had played his role in this by rallying the families of those who went missing with Thomas; Those who had influence used their privilege to send formal requests to the council, while those who were less affluent would directly storm into the HQ and make her afternoon tea time less enjoyable.

Come to think of it, whether she signed that permission or not, they would be the least of her problems soon, well, for the time being, at least.

"Miss Jazdia, our ship will be departing in one hour." Announced a woman with long blue hair styled in a silly-looking cut. Jazdia answered with a troubled smile.

"I will be ready in ten minutes."

Right, a trip to Kindeance. The Council's current focus for the time being. Kindeance and Mecedonion's peace talk was scheduled for the next month and she would act as their mediator.


Taking the last sip of her soured tea, Jazdia stood up from her chair and checked her notebook. It should be the time to put the matters regarding Tretagor in the back of her mind, but somehow, she recalled this one moment of their banter yesterday.

"Tell me, Señorita, don't you want to join us? To amend past mistakes? To make things better?"

To which she replied.

"Unlike you, Colonel Friston, I don't engage in the futility of fixing a broken mirror."

25 days later

For most of the journey, the party had developed quite a steady habit: they would travel when the sun was still up, and camping the sun was no longer on the horizon. Restock sufficiently in every town, and make sure the horses are well fed and well rested.

It was never meant to be a comfortable ride for anyone, but at least their journey has been uneventful, and most importantly, safe. Many barren flatlands passed, yet no problem sprung out from the lonely grassland, neither from the hills nor steep riverbanks. Day or night didn't make any difference. Castediar really knew how to keep their vast territory conducive, and it made Carmen proud.

It was the Captain's turn to be the outrider when they approached the frontier city of Dragon's Maw. From here they could see the mountain range and iconic hills that stood tall beside the city, like a body of a giant wyrm that guards an encased jewel.

Still visible from here was Dragon's Maw Fortress. It was built on the hilly side of the town, right at the end of the mountain range. The morning sun shone on the citadel like some sort of divine light blessing a fully armored dragon slayer stepping on the head of a fallen wyrm.

Upon entering the city limit. Captain Friston announced. "This will be our last stop."

Despite being a frontier city, Dragon's Maw was a thriving settlement; the roads were paved, and the buildings were made of concrete, stone, and solid wood. It provided all services and needs commonly found in other notable cities across Westernant, making it a popular rest stop for merchants from Savoy, or Dagorlad.

It was, however an undisputed fact that Dragon's Maw owed its prosperity to the large presence of military activity around it. In every corner of the road, there were always Westernant Soldiers guarding the premises, the queue in Blacksmith's workshops was dominated by military orders, and the off-duty soldiers had always been the most frequent patrons for the local tavern.

For Captain Friston, this was like a homecoming. He was stationed here ten years ago and some veterans might still remember him

After going through Dragon's maw main road, he stopped the convoy in a military garrison near the city limit.

After speaking with a soldier who apparently knew him and had been informed of his arrival, Captain Friston returned to the group.

"Amigos, we will replace our horses here and resupply. Accommodations for you have been booked in the inn we passed earlier. Feel free to check it out, or stroll around the city if you please. But don't forget to get enough rest. We will leave tomorrow morning by horse. The carriage will have to stay here for security reasons. Any questions?"

---

Carnatia sighed as they approached Dragon's Maw.

They had stopped by here and there along the road, but it was mostly to resupply and a large chunk of their time was spent on the road, Dragon's Maw was definitely the more thriving and developed settlement they had stopped by en route to Tretagor. Finally, maybe she could have some decent accommodation, Carnatia thought.

It wasn't as if Carnatia was entirely unfamiliar with life on the road, eating from rations or what makeshift cuisine—if campfire meals can be called that—and her body did not reject it as much as when she first struck out on her own, where she had a visceral reaction eating ration food, but it was still a conscious effort to eat them.

And that's not to mention sleeping on the ground, and other facets of life on the road. Truly, the lack of proper accommodations that were at least adequate to her standard was the thing she dreaded the most, but duty was duty. At least before they head into Tretagor proper, she could take the chance to have a decent rest and maybe taste some local gourmet delicacies.

Yes, she heard that in these parts of Westernant, there are several local recipes that had been refined for splendid fine dining experiences. In particular, she had been interested in Schweinshaxe with sauerkraut and knödel. It's supposedly a quintessential dish around these parts.

"Amigos, we will replace our horses here and resupply. Accommodations for you have been booked in the inn we passed earlier. Feel free to check it out, or stroll around the city if you please. But don't forget to get enough rest. We will leave tomorrow morning by horse. The carriage will have to stay here for security reasons. Any questions?"

"I've known of Dragon's Maw but this is the first time I've visited. You seem to know quite a bit about this place, what are the places of interest? Some good restaurant for fine dining before we depart to Sielse, for instance? I've been meaning to try some pork knuckle, namely Schweinshaxe with sauerkraut and knödel."

---

As the party departed and began their journey. The first thing Lincesleste does is handle the logistics, which means the supplies. A daughter of a merchant made the sorting well done. Meats and vegetables supplied kept in fresh, and she made a portable cooler. For the water supplies, her convenient elemental magic created drinkable water, whether it was warm or cold, keeping the party members hydrated. For the cooking, she was always the first one who volunteered, as she started a fire with her magic when they were on camp outside. She kept the cooking par average thanks to her brother's teaching and her survival experience while camping alone. Fellow party members will also seen her building a primitive shelter made by the surrounding materials. For the whole twenty-five days, she made this her routine for the outside camp without complaining. As for the resting on town, she stuck to the party and followed what the captain said. 

Once they arrived, the Dragon Maw's. She enjoyed looking at the eye-catching landmark as resemblance of a Wyverm figure. As they stopped, she approached Captain Friston for the briefing. 

"Amigos, we will replace our horses here and resupply. Accommodations for you have been booked in the inn we passed earlier. Feel free to check it out, or stroll around the city if you please. But don't forget to get enough rest. We will leave tomorrow morning by horse. The carriage will have to stay here for security reasons. Any questions?"

Linceleste remained silence and kept a polite smile to those speakers. She kept her energy until she joined others to roam around. 

Pink long-sleeved polo shirt with the sleeves folded up. Grey slacks with black suspenders. Brown leather shoes, fingerless gloves with exposed backhands, and strange diagonal leather straps on his upper torso area holstering three iron spikes and one sizeable book. Topped off with a black waist-high leather jacket worn only on the shoulders, hanging like a cape.
Lastly, same old burgundy sunglasses, possibly his favourite.

_{During the twenty-five-day trip...}

As if actively maintaining his status as an outcast after his stunt against the Blackthorn Witch, Ludvig remained socially distant with the rest of the team, wiling away the daylights lying down on his horse either reading a book pilfered from the library- a memoir to one Areston Lydus, or just sleeping. Impeccable balance for a former circus acrobat, lying his back down on a moving horse like that. Although, part of it has to do with his horse trotting instead of galloping like other horses.

Despite his preference for coffee, he thought it too much to ask Linceleste to store coffee beans in her storage, especially being the only drinker in the team that he knew of. Instead, for nearly every town they stopped at, he chatted up the nearest homes and brewed coffee in their kitchens. In a way it made the coffee more special and especially varied, for some houses had insufficient supplies of sugar or milk, and/or varied on whether they had white or brown sugar. Some of them even had chocolate.

At night, having garnered sufficient sleep during the day, he self-elected to be the lookout, burning past the nighttime brushing up on his martial arts by stancing or shadowfighting, or doing random calisthenics.

Despite the perceivable loneliness, Ludvig maintained a gentle self-satisfied smile that anyone with prolonged exposure to it would probably assume fake.

_{Present day.}

Ludvig was already not at his trotting horse as soon as Carmen finished talking, instead finding himself at the terrace of the aforementioned inn, drawn to the scent of food being served in it.

A shimmer of magic glossed over him a bit, making him just a little bit tidier as he handcombed his hair while walking towards the bar.

^{『 Ludvig 』} "Hi. Yeah, can I have um... Coffee and an omelette, please? Any omelette will do."

Rezello

---

Rezello refilled his glass, taking another drink of the unusual wine as the archbishop returned with another individual, an addition to their band. A white-haired woman in an unusual garb, similar to that worn by some of the female members of the faith that he had encountered before, though distinctly more threatening in design. The former inquisitor seemed to recognize the significance of the outfit; as soon as she saw the new member, her demeanor shifted abruptly, her focus directly intensely upon the "penitent" as she introduced herself. From her words, it seemed she may have been famous- infamous? For something, though her name wasn't one Rezello recognized. Regardless of whatever past she might have had, he had been hired to protect his allies, not pry into their histories, and so to him she was no different than any of the others.

While Osric and Carnatia introduced themselves to their new member, Ludvig had apparently started stumbling his own way through a first impression - first with a spit-take at Amaris's initial appearance, followed by suddenly appearing behind her and trying to touch the back of her hood. An attempt quickly foiled by a combination of spikes manifesting from the hood itself and a set of chains similarly appearing from the ground, the former impaling Ludvig's hand and the latter narrowly missing it as they snaked through the air with sharp, angular turns, a startled reaction sending him recoiling to the ground. Unsurprisingly, Ludvig's shenanigans were not taken well by the newcomer, and as he made his way back to his feet she explained her past, evidently as a warning against such behavior. With an apology, he left the room, followed shortly after by Lynx.

Carmen was the next to leave the hall, with Mirielle quickly finishing what remained of her meal before chasing after him, presumably to discuss something about their latest addition to the party. Matters of faith and such. Whatever the case, Osric had the right idea with his previous toast. Some degree of tension was always inevitable in groups like theirs, and no good would come from letting them get out of hand. After all, it was Rezello's job to protect his newfound allies, even if that meant protecting them from each other. As long as they could remain civil with each other, hopefully it wouldn't come to that.

"How about you, Rezello? This feel like those carefree camaraderie from missions in your past?”

"Well, it's not the most cohesive group I've worked with, but for a band of strangers we certainly could be doing worse. For now, I'm keeping my hopes up that any internal strife we have had thus far can be sorted out soon enough, once we have had time to know each other better... and perhaps depend upon one another. Nothing like a bit of mutual reliance to build solidarity."

Most adventuring parties Rezello had been a part of in the past tended to be smaller than their current group, perhaps half the size. Larger groups like this were typically reserved for more dangerous or otherwise difficult jobs; the expedition from two years ago came to mind, as the group then had been roughly the same size - minus the support crew. Obviously, given the nature of their mission, no such group would be joining them for this.

---

Beyond the typical routines of travel, very little happened during the first near-month of their journey. Lynx had taken it upon herself to handle much of the logistics of their supplies; something to keep herself occupied, or perhaps as a way of trying to prove herself useful to the others. For most of the journey, Rezello had returned his armor to Armory to reduce any unnecessary weight, though he kept his spadone on hand as a cautionary measure. Luckily, such preparation proved unnecessary, as they arrived in Dragon's Maw without incident.

As they reached their stop, Rezello dismounted his horse, stretching his legs for a moment as he looked around. Returning his weapon to Armory within the safety of the frontier city's heavily fortified walls, he thought about setting out to find himself a meal. Preferably something meaty, but not dried or otherwise preserved - he had eaten more than enough of that in the past 25 days. The pork Carnatia described sounded appealing, though her mention of "fine" dining was... less so.

Carmen Friston

Unlike Rezello, who clearly needed some time for stretchings after their long travel, the eccentric performer had already flickered his presence toward the terrace of the inn he mentioned. 25 days was enough for Carmen to get used to this man's peculiarities, so he didn't mind. He just hoped that his habit of sneaking up on someone wouldn't get him into trouble.

"Just one, Carmen. I assume you are quite well known through these parts, right? Considering my... 'luck' with Westernant authorities, should some of them share our dear ex-inquisitor's opinion about me, It would be quite useful to have someone like you, captain, to attest to my innocence, since you know well how unlikely most are to trust my words. Even when those are true."

"Yes, I was a Cavalry Colonel on these parts, but many things have changed for the last five years. But worry not, I've already put some words about our visit, so no one will question you."

Except maybe some rowdy drunkards a staple in every saloon and bar alike, but that was nothing they couldn't handle. Heh, come to think of it, the locals too might spare her some unfriendly looks and exchange some hateful whisper about her and other things that unfortunately beyond his control. Better not leave them too long without proper supervision.

"I will be joining you before midday. There is something I need to discuss with the garrison commander about the neighboring region."

"I've known of Dragon's Maw but this is the first time I've visited. You seem to know quite a bit about this place, what are the places of interest? Some good restaurant for fine dining before we depart to Sielse, for instance? I've been meaning to try some Castediar Pork Tenderloin with Romesco Sauce and Patatas Bravas."

"I got to admit... the idea of a good local meal is quite attractive! Don't get me wrong, the travel rations were fine, much better than most stuff I had to eat while under the loving 'care' of a few of the most... 'passionate' inquisitors, but given the lengthy mission we have ahead of us, it might be a good idea to take every opportunity we have for a bit of comfort while we can, no?" Amaris said, agreeing with Carnatia's suggestion.

Carmen decided to let the jab from Amaris pass and let out an amused chuckle, he did not blame them. Almost a month living off dried provisions would make one crave something more refined. Still, though, they were not in Servielle. "I am not sure those are what our castellan have on a daily basis," he said while glancing at the fortress northside of the city. "But they have pigs here as a staple, so I guess you could check out the tavern and see what they have. Who knows they might do a custom order. Why don't you two go with Lynx? And take Rezello with you too. He seems could use some refreshments."

@13org@Randomguy@Soldat Elf@Valkon

Mirielle took one last lookover from her little personal notebook, glancing past the name, description, and little sketches of her travel companions. Took a while but she finally got used to everyone's names, though just to be sure she'll refrain from crossing them out just yet. That done, the ex-inquisitor stored the notebook in a pocket before drinking in the sight of Dragon's Maw.

It looked just like any other cities this close by, the illusion of a crown of manmade stone atop a fallen wyrm not quite working when most of the wyrm's body was obscured by the too-close walls. The distinct air of a city built around a permanent garrison was unmistakable, from the rugged architechture to the winding streets and tbe hardy people living in it. Mirielle had been around such places before, though just like current experience it was mostly a resupply stop. Even the color of the Order was no guarantee out of troubles, though it did serve as some deterrence.

Some, under normal circumstances. Compared to the presence of the witch... probably not much of a deterrence at all. Soldiers had always been a superstitious lot.

Speaking of, said witch had been a real test of self-control over the nearly four weeks travel. The impertinent comments wouldn't be half as annoying if it wasn't specifically directed her way at every opportunity, such as now. Grumbling and inwardly reciting a passage about the virtue of patience - and not arguing with fools -, Mirielle dismounted her own ride before closing in with the rest of the group.

"Worry not, I shall be escorting... miss Amaris here. With some discretion, we'll get to avoid the worst of troubles." Beside from the most devout folks, few would be able to tell the exact rank one held within the Order beside some vague impression that the fancier outfits were reserved for the higher ranks. Mirielle, as an Archbishop's personal guard, would appear more important than she actually was. While she loathed the small deception, it was done for good cause and wouldn't hurt anyone (beside her own conscience). She'll pray for forgiveness later. "I swear that she will not be mistreated under my watch." She added, still not addressing the penitent directly.

---

Humidity...
Decompose...
Filter...
Des-

Amanita shook herself our of the comfortable fugue she was in, a bad habit she has since her existence began. Lately she had been falling into it more, almost the entire journey spend in that haze of certainty.

However, while it was nice,she was here to explore and understand new things. She has learned that most others didn't share her enjoyment of "going slow" for some strange reason, so the group will probably not join her for a refreshing couple years of moss-watching at the moment.

Oh, and she had these offers from her...compatriots? Which she could seek out! Lately her life has been so lively! She should thank them later, maybe with some mushroom beer? Or wine for Carnatia? She seemed to really like them.

Bringing her full attention to the party, she noticed that Ludwig has already moved away, while the rest was discussing about food and something about... Amaris?

"Worry not, I shall be escorting... miss Amaris here. With some discretion, we'll get to avoid the worst of troubles."
. "I swear that she will not be mistreated under my watch.

Ah, this is "friendship",looking out for each other and trying to make each other happy. It's not the first time she saw it, but she always liked the idea. Maybe she could make friends too! Her last ones are one feeding the Earth...

That's would be nice.

"That's nice. Friendship is always a wonderful thing to see blooming."

『 Ludvig 』 "Hi. Yeah, can I have um... Coffee and an omelette, please? Any omelette will do"

The barkeep was a mustached, middle-aged name named Oswald. He had average height and was a bit too fat to be considered healthy. He wore a white, long-sleeved shirt that seemed to have seen better days and a black vest with two buttons, and then a bowler hat with the same dark color.

He leaned forth and stared at Ludwig as if he had offended him somehow before finally answering.

"Oy mate! We've got beer, and if yew ain't want beer you ain't buying!"

This peculiar customer now placed two silver coins on the counter and nodded, confusing the barkeep even more.

"Wot? Yew serious? Well, it ain't like we ain't have it, Castellan occasionally orders some for lads doin' night patrol. A vile drink they say and I agree, it tastes like sewage wo'er and I'aint blame em if they think they got it as some sort of punishment. Not me affair to judge yer drink. One cup of coffee then, have a seat.

He turned back before returning to the counter again.

"And omelet, whot kind again? Ah nevermind! One plain omelet, for a gud man. Charlie, you hear?!"

A voice from the kitchen answered. "Loud and clear boss!"

---

Linceleste continued to listen in on the group discussion. The traveler knight and the two women appeared to be discussing some delicacies from a fine dining establishment on Dragon's Mauw. Since her family spent time at several different restaurants, she doesn't mind the fine dining. She smiled as the captain recommended his known tavern. She remembered the cherished memories back then as she was still a younger self in Hdur. Those were the times she spent with her older brother in Baker's tavern, where they frequented like regulars. She can still clearly remember their nicknames as the York Guppies by the owner's daughter, Nina.

"Lead the way, then, Lady Mirielle. I will be paying for our group," Linceleste said with a polite tone to the ex-inquisitor woman.

---

Carnatia arrived in the tavern in a rather good mood. The establishment was, of course, not completely up to her usual standard, but she had seen worse during her time as an adventurer.

She only hoped that the chef here could serve the local dish she desired.

"Oy mate! We've got beer, and if yew ain't want beer you ain't buying!"

"Beer? This early in the day? Then again I've heard that it would pair well with some of the dishes served in this region.

Specifically, she heard from her older brother that Schweinshaxe paired well with Dunkel, a type of lager created through a technique called decoction mashing. And she would be remiss if she did not take the chance to taste the infamous black lager of the region

"Very well, a mug of your finest dunkel, then. As for the dish, I would like sauerkraut as the appetizer, Schweinshaxe as the main dish, knödel as a side dish, and apfelstrudel as dessert."

Then turning to Linceleste, she added "Lady York, I realize that a full-course meal might not what you have in mind when you offered, but I am willing to pay for myself if it's too much trouble, no offence intended, of course. I did not wish to slight your gracious offer, merely making a clarification on my own end.