Ellywyck27
Ironfist, Galanodel
Coming to the stable, Ruthenia finds the others just starting to saddle the loan horses and divide tents and rations under the commanding organization of the Kenku. Although clearly eager to hit the road, Bell makes it clear that he thinks it worth five minutes for Ms Ironfist to don her armor instead of foolishly carry it. She bristles at being corrected by a non-military, but throws on the heavy coat and hastily ties the sides, to be redone later as she rides. Scale leggings make long hours very uncomfortable for both rider and horse, she knows from experience. So she carefully packs them in balance to the other gear and equipment.
The whole time they are gearing up, Lecuis is rambling his story about an elephant, but Ruthenia gets very mixed up as he tells jokes, other circus events, and about someone named Podrick. Or was Podrick the elephant? Ruthenia can’t follow if any of it is true or just one long tall tale. She asks a question about where everyone recently came from, if they enjoy travel rations or not, and even baits them with, “I see your axe is as big as mine,” but both Aseir and Lecuis seem a bit exhausted and Bell is tight-beaked and quiet, so she falls into silence herself as the town shrinks into the distance behind them.
The road grows eerie and cold as they enter the moorland, the muted fog and shadows during daylight unnerve Ruthenia. She worries a bit about Aseir staying alert enough to be on lookout, but he keeps to safe distances and signals clearly when taking his rotation as lead scout. Still, she strains her senses to the max just in case he misses something. Passing a handful of slower travelers after a few hours, and exchanging polite greetings with travelers headed toward Luskan, she relaxes at assurances that the journey is safe from orc bands and highway thieves.
As the sun behind them casts long-legged shadows into the fog in front, she sees the remains of two or three damp campsite fire spots by the side of the road, and hopes they can press on and find a better place to sleep than out in the open like that. When Bell whistles, Ruth is startled almost off her saddle. Is there danger?! Bell motions them to veer off to the right. Instead, a faint path leads them to a nice, dry place in some quality granite flagstone ruins to set up the tents and light a small, protected cooking fire. Well done.
Normally, she would suggest some games and an axe-throwing challenge to the two others who carry. But they are yawning and blinking before the camp is set. So she lets it go for another time. It’s no fun to win when the opponents are hindered.
Ms. Ironfist declares she will take first watch. She walks away from the fire to meditate in private and when she returns, the flames have dimmed, the mess kits safely stowed. The horses sleep easy, but she keeps her coat of mail on until just before she crawls into her bedroll.
The whole time they are gearing up, Lecuis is rambling his story about an elephant, but Ruthenia gets very mixed up as he tells jokes, other circus events, and about someone named Podrick. Or was Podrick the elephant? Ruthenia can’t follow if any of it is true or just one long tall tale. She asks a question about where everyone recently came from, if they enjoy travel rations or not, and even baits them with, “I see your axe is as big as mine,” but both Aseir and Lecuis seem a bit exhausted and Bell is tight-beaked and quiet, so she falls into silence herself as the town shrinks into the distance behind them.
The road grows eerie and cold as they enter the moorland, the muted fog and shadows during daylight unnerve Ruthenia. She worries a bit about Aseir staying alert enough to be on lookout, but he keeps to safe distances and signals clearly when taking his rotation as lead scout. Still, she strains her senses to the max just in case he misses something. Passing a handful of slower travelers after a few hours, and exchanging polite greetings with travelers headed toward Luskan, she relaxes at assurances that the journey is safe from orc bands and highway thieves.
As the sun behind them casts long-legged shadows into the fog in front, she sees the remains of two or three damp campsite fire spots by the side of the road, and hopes they can press on and find a better place to sleep than out in the open like that. When Bell whistles, Ruth is startled almost off her saddle. Is there danger?! Bell motions them to veer off to the right. Instead, a faint path leads them to a nice, dry place in some quality granite flagstone ruins to set up the tents and light a small, protected cooking fire. Well done.
Normally, she would suggest some games and an axe-throwing challenge to the two others who carry. But they are yawning and blinking before the camp is set. So she lets it go for another time. It’s no fun to win when the opponents are hindered.
Ms. Ironfist declares she will take first watch. She walks away from the fire to meditate in private and when she returns, the flames have dimmed, the mess kits safely stowed. The horses sleep easy, but she keeps her coat of mail on until just before she crawls into her bedroll.
Last edited:
