In Most Uncommon Company
Fourteenth Day of the Ninth Month 293 AC
Mors Umber had to admit that the Riverlanders did a decent job of hiding their tracks in the woods. Of course, with as many brambles and grasses as grew down south you would have to be a right fool not to be able to cover your trail. "Hail to the camp! Thorns prick the heavy hand!" he shouted the day's pass, learned from the messenger raven that served this particular bunch of dragonmen. The Northerner snorted in his beard. '
Guess that makes me a dragonman twice-over.' he thought to himself.
"Friend, you may know the words but I sure as shit don't know you," a voice called out from one of the tangled old oaks that formed a sort of natural gate down into the dried riverbed where the camp was hidden. "Either someone's been telling tales they shouldn't or Lord Mallister has gotten really shit at setting traps just when he got his chance. Which is it?"
"Neither," a voice like crackling embers about to spark into flame called out from behind Mors. "We followed the same paths as your food, steel, and magic."
At that the sentry fell silent, though whether it was the invocation of the King's power or just having tested the dragon's patience Mors couldn't say for sure, but he was glad for it. It was hard enough to convince him not to dress in red while in man-shape, if he thought the dark cloak he was wearing now was making him lose respect then off it would go, making them as easy to find as blood on snow. Not that they were perfectly bending in, what with the eastern water-witch and the bastard who kept on talking back to the voices in his head. At least he hadn't shot any arrows at them yet.
***
As she cradled the cup of wine in hand Vaela Naetalor wondered not for the first time, or even for the hundred and first, what she was doing here in the wild western lands hunting ghosts and consorting with outlaws. Granted they were only outlaws from the rule of the local king, as barbarous a man as could be imagined. They still looked decidedly villainous, especially their leader, Byron Sykes, a wild haired man with a bare chest covered in strange markings that she had at first thought magical, but which seemed to do nothing beyond making their bearer look even more fierce than he would have normally.
"Well, now that we are all gathered 'round the fire why don't we crack open that barrel we 'liberated' last week and we drink to the King's health and share tales," the man said, waving expansively at his followers and visitors.
"I can only remain in this shape for a limited amount of time, mortal, I imagine you would find my full presence a touch disquieting," Lord Amrelath said smoothly. "We have need of your best tracker. We've found what may be signs of tampering near one of the old barrows down south toward Oldstones and we would like to be certain of the matter, one way or another, before descending into it."
"Fire and smoke, smoke and fire, which came first and which came last?" Mordys said in a vaguely sing-song voice, mostly ignored by his companions though drawing disquiet looks from the band.
It was all Vaela could do not to giggle at the thought that they considered the Qartheen archer the dangerous one. Not like there was much else she could do right now. Her magic may be letting her understand the tongue of the Sunset Lands but it was not strong enough to help with talking, which left her with the words she had learned from Mors, half of which were probably obscene in some manner.
"Well now... would there be some treasure for us to find in that barrow of yours?" Sykes asked, stroking his beard.
From the darkening of his gaze Lord Amrelath had been about to say no when another thought occurred to him. "Only the tracker if he wishes to continue. He gets a share proportional to his work."
"Done," Sykes spat in his palm, with Mors hurrying to take it before he made the mistake of thrusting it at Lord Amrelath.
OOC: Not the longest and no pay-off yet simply because it is way too late to roll, but hopefully it gives some insight into how Amrelath and company are interacting as well as a brief look at the Lads. Sykes being as insanely brave as ever decided to try for that Seaguard base you guys asked for as 'nice to have'.
