While crossing the river, Darron and Bert get tangled in a nasty fight about the location of the sword, but I’m still so angry at the knight and lost in my grief that I can’t muster the fight to assist him. Carsen and Gregoriy pig pile on, and Bert’s horse quickly takes a swift blow to the knee from the priest’s axe. I wail at the horror of the sight as Carsen pierces Bert with a masterfully placed arrow, and Dolins wraps the man in a net, reminding the group he needs to be kept alive for information. They gain intel that I dont really comprehend, about some town I’ve never heard of, and Ser Darron lets the man go like some used and emptied flagon.

I had dreamed of leaving home for adventure and intrigue, but now that I’m deep in the swashbuckling and ruthlessness, I quietly miss Castle Snownook, my mother, and simple days tending to the stables.

It doesn’t take long after crossing the river to stumble into more trouble. We approach two men by a creek, and Ser Darron commands the group to draw our weapons. Only a moment later the men see us…and take off. Darron drives his heels into his newly acquired sand steed, and the beast’s speed and strength are a wonder to behold. I barely notice Dolins and Gregoriy follow in hot pursuit, but when Lord Theodore remains at a consistent pace, August and I stay with him. It is his judgement and wisdom that must guide me through this journey, in order to eventually return home, gods willing.