Kel's stuttering gave rise to an oddly amused expression on Hugh's face. Was the man simply of nervous disposition, or did the knight's scarred countenance truly arouse that much terror in the hearts of men? Jakoke presented a more mature and proper appearance by far. Stifling any laughter, he replied, “I think I'll leave the high-flying to you, buddy. Wouldn't want to deprive this show of a director...particularly to a fate so inglorious as plummeting off a dragon's back.” Hugh then decided to leave the wyvern rider to his own devices, wanting to make sure that he'd get enough time to load his various bits and bobs -was that an entire bed?- into the convoy.
A husky voice marred by nautical colloquialism garnered Hugh's attention next. The knight found himself looking at a large man, swarthy of complexion and lacking in shirt. As Hugh listened to Franky's lubberly discourse, he couldn't help but wonder where this vagabond of a warrior had heard that this would be a short mission. “Sorry to disappoint you, matey! Wars may start in a day, but they take a little longer to end, especially when we've got only a couple of leads. If you require a change of costume, I'm sure we'll be able to suit you up with some of our spares. Clothing gets damaged in battle, so having back-ups is wise. Regardless, this is not going to be a short performance. Fortunately your contract, like a strap of tanned leather, is binding, so I needn't worry about a walk-off, eh?”
Getting the feeling that Kel was looking at him, Hugh made his way back to the wyvern rider and the accompanying cavalier, just in time to hear a priestly-looking fellow mistake Jakobe as the expedition's leader. Hugh snorted with derision at first, but had to admit after a good look at the horseman that he did look the part far better than Hugh did. A coat of gleaming metal and a well-bred horse did wonders for a knightly image, particularly given Hugh's own decidedly Augusian getup. “Sorry, my good man, but you've pegged the wrong persona. It is I who will be leader the Reclaimers. Don't worry about apologizing, sir, it is an easy mistake to make...and we have little time to waste!”
Hugh walked to the convoy and pulled himself up onto one of the horses, the only one saddled. “Alright ladies and gents, it's time to pull back the curtains and get this show on the road! Our two youngest charges will be permitted to ride in the convoy with our items if you so choose, but take care not to squash anything! Ready yet, folks? Forward...march!”
The walk so far had been uneventful save for the terrain crossed. This time of year, the flowers that had risen in spring's first month were now in full bloom, and the landscape was dotted in wildflowers and overgrown grass. As was signature of Bravura, the country also hosted a great deal of small villages scattered around, most currently involved with the cultivating of land and planting of crops, or of managing livestock. Few of the towns had walls or stone roads, and a many lay on or very close to the cobble highway that the Reclaimers now traversed—the Westroad, leading from the capital straight to the riverlands and, eventually, Panoply.
Sanguin, however, didn't feel much inspiration when confronted by her surroundings. Every village was another potential tragic ruin should the war reach this far, and every person a potential corpse. It still filled the myrmidon with a macabre wonder how two sides so devoted to the idea of finding peace could so eagerly lay siege to one another's people, and leave their bodies to mingle with the soil.
The line of Reclaimers came to a halt as a the dragon Druug swooped down to deposit its rider by the convoy, where Kel could talk with Hugh. Though only an hour had passed, the wyvern rider had been quickly purposed as the miniature army's scout, given his mobility and ability to avoid grounded obstacles like trees, ditches, and rivers. Sanguin watched with interest, for this time Kel displayed a sense of urgency that he'd not yet exhibited, and as Hugh dismounted his horse to climb atop the convoy, Sanguin sensed that something was wrong.
Hugh raised his arms for attention. “I've received word that the next village ahead is occupied by invaders. They could be Bravuran bandits or Panoplian pillagers, but we've barely entered the riverlands, so it is doubtful that this is our quarry. Still, we cannot just ignore people in need...and what better way for me to get a taste for your skills in battle? Gaius!”
He waited for a moment as the Tactician made his way toward him. “Our very own cunning strategist! Listen carefully to what Kel has to say about the village's layout and our enemy's locations, then figure out the best way for our forces to engage. Keep in mind this tidbit from my knightly training: warriors paired together will be able to accentuate their strengths and cover each other's weaknesses. I'll pop in with advice if I deem it necessary.” The captain pivoted around, facing Sanguin and the rest. “As for you all, grab your gear from the convoy and suit up. If you have a good idea of who'll you be best off working with, let Gaius know. Time to shine, people!”
Sanguin shrugged before pulling her armor and weapons from the convoy. Her mask had gone on long ago, right after recovering it from her collision with an uncaring Arkhant, but now it was joined by cuirass, scimitar, and shield. She wondered if it would be worth the trouble to ask one of the mages if they'd be able to cover her in the upcoming fight.
