Chapter 4.2: The Dim Journey to Orlane

Dell is upset with himself. He forgot a ball of twine and bells for early warning. Chase was always telling him to triple check his gear before setting out but he always seemed to forget something.

Before dinner, Kazzak makes sure the wain is secured and the oxen are fed and watered.

"I volunteer for wherever I'm needed on the night watch. I am used to working in the dark."

Kazzak listens rogue's description. "Dell, you said you saw a house and barn. Did you see any people or animals?"

Antonius helps where he can as the camp came together with quiet efficiency beneath the looming boughs of the Dim Forest, each of the companions settling into their roles with the ease of those already learning one another’s habits. Antonius took a position where he could see both the fire and the darkness beyond it, his warhammer resting within easy reach as the low flames cast long, wavering shadows across the clearing. He ate sparingly, as always, declining drink beyond water, and listened more than he spoke while the others traded observations of the road, the forest, and the uncertain welcome awaiting them in Orlane. When he did offer words, they were measured—questions about tracks, about the lay of the land, about anything out of place. The night pressed close, but Antonius seemed undisturbed by it, his attention fixed not on the comfort of the fire, but on what might be watching just beyond its light.

Dell will look to Kazzak "I did not get to close to the homestead so I did not see any people but the path looked well traveled so I am sure they are there." He continues to think for a moment then shakes his head. "I just feel like there was something maybe out of place. I wish Chase were here because he would have known right off. I am not the woodsman/tracker he is. I am sorry." He then stares into the flames as if the answer is there. Wondering to himself again about his brothers well being.

"There’s no need to apologize. You are who you are. Everyone has their own gifts to share with others. I’m sure your brother will be proud when we meet up with him."

Antonius sat forward slightly by the fire, the red glow from his amulet catching in his eyes as he turned his thoughts over aloud. "Dell," he began evenly, "this homestead you found—did you see signs of life? Smoke, livestock, tracks… anything to suggest it is still occupied?" He paused, glancing briefly toward the darkened reaches of the Dim Forest. "The others spoke at length of the Jarl family—the one saved thrice and recently escorted to Hochoch. If that is the same homestead, it should now stand empty." His brow furrowed faintly. "Yet… is it the only one in this stretch of the forest? If not, we may be looking at another holding entirely." Antonius let the thought settle a moment. "If it is abandoned, it may offer shelter. If not…" his gaze hardened slightly, "then we would do well to know who claims it before we draw too near, and we should investigate."

"I'm not certain," Sora begins, "But I don't think those are the Jarls occupying that farm. Whoever they are, I doubt they will be friendly."

It is obvious Berthold is used to being served. While his retinue busies itself with preparing camp, lighting a campfire and cooking, the baronet is happy to circle around the campsite analysing its defensive position, or observing the woodlands around. Soon enough he is content with his own assessment of the party's position in these woods, and returns to chat with Olyena. He speaks softly in response to her reasonable answer.

"While we have more company, perhaps it'd be wise to prepare meals that serve as many mouths as we can. I suppose making stew for four, or for ten, is not that different, as long as we have the needed victuals. It would do good for morale if our new companions saw me break bread with them as equals. You know, so that we strengthen the camarederie within our small troop. Should this be too much, we can find different arrangements, Olyena. Your first task remains that of serving me."

After that issue was handled, Berthold was extremely glad to find a new gaming partner in Amnestria: though a regular player of the game, it is obvious to anyone observing for a short while, that the knight was not an accomplished player, though he took great pleasure in teaching the game to any who are interested, and even more in actually playing. He might win or lose, and he was happy either way.

Berthold observed Reynald quietly. Boys needed to let go of their energy, and babbling about improbable or impossible things was better than challenging people to fights. When he mentioned wanting to go into the woods and hunting bears, the knight's brow shot up, though he said nothing. Guilbert's question soon refocused the youth's enthusiasm on something else, probably more productive.

"Making a spear? Have you any training at the smithy, Reynald?" he stood up and approached his squire. "A powerful weapon, the spear. Can keep horsemen and swordsmen at bay, especially if there are many spearmen. And in single combat, it can be used as a quarterstaff to control space around the warrior, and to strike foes before they're close enough to strike. And they can be thrown. A very useful weapon, no wonder it has survived from time immemorial," he continued speaking, observing the lad's reaction. "We should train you in it's use, before sending you off to bring bear pelts from the Dim." Another brief pause as he looked at the lad, with intensity but with softness as well. "You should not worry, Reynald, there'll be plenty of fighting ahead. And enough glory for all of us. But battles are half won before we begin trading blows, and our mission -- your mission -- is to keep our eyes peeled and notice anything dangerous that might present itself ahead of us, so we choose when and how to tackle it."

He then returned to the centre of the camp, where there was talk about the Jarl's farmstead. He knew little about the place or about its previous inhabitants, so was quite content to listen to what the others had to say.

"Perhaps we should have a look at this farm, before we continue to Orlane. If there are trespassers there, it could be good to know."

After waking and breaking his fast Dell is eager to press on knowing Chase is that much closer. "If that is Jarl's we know they are living in town right now until this situation is handled. I say we press on and we can check that on the way back."

Sora gives a sidelong glance at the farmhouse, still not convinced that it is in possession of the Jarls.

At the sound of snapping and the barely muffled curse, Berthold swung to face the noise and exclaimed "To arms! They are upon us!"

Seated in the wagon, Amnestria ducks down amidst the packs.

Knowing the oxen are probably slower than whatever they’re facing, Kazzak goes for his crossbow.

Antonius slowed as the track to the farmhouse came into view, his gaze lingering on it before shifting back to Dell. "Your urgency does you credit," he said evenly, "but haste has already cost lives in this forest." His hand rested lightly on his warhammer. "The dead have walked here. Bandits move under cover. A homestead—occupied or abandoned—cannot be ignored. It is our duty to know." He was about to press the matter further when the sharp crack of a twig split the quiet from the southern treeline of the Dim Forest.

In an instant, Antonius stilled, every trace of conversation falling away. His grip tightened on the haft of his weapon as his eyes snapped toward the sound, posture shifting subtly—balanced, ready. "Not alone," he murmured, voice low but certain as he loosened the strap on his shield readying it when needed. He raised a hand slightly, signaling the others to halt and listen. "Someone watches us… and poorly."His expression hardened, calm but intent. "Hold. Let them reveal themselves—or we draw them out."

Dell hearing the twig snap smoothly unshoulders his bow and nocks an arrow.