Two horsemen ride up to a tavern...

Fury erupts in the former keeper as he takes the scene in. His grey eyes flecked with arcs of silver as he alternates between glaring at the hobgoblin thug, and guilt as he looks at the men for whom he prayed for a better life. Each beat of his heart sends a roll of thunder through his body, his head pounding with outrage. Kou has always strove to uphold his the serene demeanor of his mentor, but the adopted persona begins to crack at the hobgoblin's unsaid threat. Looking to Francis and his brother he says only  "I know" though he puts in as much warmth and kindness as he can.  Stepping forward he calls out in a restrained but clearly angry tone "I will not play your game, say your piece and be done with this farce." Preparing to leap forward when the hobgoblin moves to harm those who swore him an oath.

Katrin steps forward with Kou, holding up a pacifying hand to the enraged Keeper. She nods towards the hobgoblin.  "You must be Gesrik. It's so nice to meet you." Her face is pleasant enough, but her voice has an edge like sharpened steel. "Do you actually have any business with us, or are you just here for your merry men?"

The hobgoblin's gaze goes from Kou to Katrin, and then up to Bo and Terry. "I see you've told them my name,"  he says to two bandits. "I wonder what else you told them..." He holds their gaze for a moment longer, then smiles again and looks back to Kou. "I will say my piece, Keeper, thank you for the invitation," he says. "But first...which one of you killed my brother?"

Katrin stills as Gesrik speaks. It would be simple to deflect, to place the blame on something else. But what kind of person would she be if she did that? If she lied? Stay true to yourself, Kat. If you can't, how can you stay true to those you love? Her father's voice filters across her mind. She glances up at Kou, then squares her gaze at the hobgoblin.  "Any one of us here could've struck that final blow. But you're not a fool. Nor are you going to let this go until you know the truth." She holds her shield at her side. "I take it you found his body?"

He lowers his gaze to Katrin. "Und his armor in your cart," he says as he gestures to Thrandimir's cart. "Tell me, did he die well?"

Katrin smiles thinly. "I think you already know." Her eyes flicker over to Francis and then back to Gesrik. "What are you going to do about it?"

Gesrik smiles. "Ja. I do know. It is unfortunate that he is dead, but he knew what could happen in his line of work." He shakes his head, the smile turning slightly sad. "So. You've wiped out two of my groups und killed my brother. I think you will give us what you found in those ruins, und then we can go our separate ways. I also want Beauregard und Terrance back."

Kou's anger cools for a moment as Katrin speaks, nodding with a small smile as she states her challenge to the thug. Though it fades as he looks toward Gesrik and asks "What do you intend for Francis and his brother? They swore my god an oath and I will have them live to honor it."

Katrin takes a quick sweep of the area. Gesrik and his men have them pinned, and those archers... This is not going to be pretty. If it came to a fight, Gesrik would have the upper hand, and defeat was likely. But if they gave them what they found.....her hand clenches into a fist. We need that scroll. I'll not see it fall into the hands of these.....marauders. She takes a step back to Kaed while Kou speaks, and whispers, "They've got us cornered. A fight is ill-advised. But...." She gives him a meaningful look, before continuing, even more quietly,  "We need what we came for."  

Bo swallows audibly. Gesrik's gaze takes in the secretive conversation between the clerics, then looks to his former employee. "What is the matter, Beauregard? Yes, I know your name. I know all of my men by name. There's so much power  in a name." The word is emphasized as his smile turns into a sneer. "I can only imagine it was one of you who told them mine. Which one of you was it? You know that betrayal must be punished." Terry swallows as well, giving a sideways glance at Thrandimir. Gesrik gives a knowing smile. "Very well. I'll need Terrance then. Beauregard is free to go wherever he wishes. As for Francis and his brother, they had no business swearing an oath to your god. But I am not Uriah." The name is said with disgust. "I will not force someone into my servitude. If Francis and his brother wish to leave this life behind, so be it. But I will not release them until you give me what I am owed. "

Cal had barely had time to react to the suggestion of killing the bandits again before the commotion outside started. He made his way with the others, finding themselves surrounded on all sides by bandits and thugs. He grips the curved wooden staff in his hand, twisting it inward as his eyes move back and forth around the field, trying to figure out any sort of plan, though nothing was coming to mind all too fast as true gravity of the situation started sinking in. In a low, hushed tone he whispers forward to the two Tempus followers, "This seems a bit of a prickly situation, y'know? Wh-what do we do?"

Katrin's eyes flicker back to Cal, then settle on Gesrik. She looks unimpressed by his sudden change in tactic. "Well isn't that generous of you. If you'll humor me, what is it exactly you feel you are owed?"

"The betrayer..." Gesrik's eyes settle on Terry before going back to Katrin. "...und whatever trinkets you found in that cave. Not many people delve into Tollanian ruins. I'm curious what you found."

Thrandimir shuffles along wearily behind the rest of his companions as they return to the Tabaxi merchants outside the Hydellian retreat. "Vale,"  he remarks absent-mindedly as they leave, closing the great doors behind them. The wizard barely takes note of the moral debate over the captured bandits, instead burying his nose in the notes of the ancient Tollanian arcanists. That is, until the piercing whistle from outside demands his attention. Taking a moment to make sure that everything precious is secure inside the bag of holding, Thrandimir loops it around the belt under his cloak and cautiously follows Kou towards the exit. The hogboblin's posturing provokes only rolled eyes from the wizard and, unusually quiet as he is in this moment, he lets Katrin lead the conversation at first, instead watching, listening and thinking carefully. We could cut and run, you know, Thrandimir muses, making use of the mental line to Ascian's thoughts that he knows is still open. You'd probably make it past them and I could vanish with magic... but somehow I've grown rather fond of this bunch of fools. What do you think? The wizard pauses briefly, beady eyes darting to and fro as he assesses their situation. An illusion would shield most of us from the archers, but somebody needs to put an end to that bloody hobgoblin before he talks us all to death. Can you do it? Perhaps a distraction is in order... From behind Katrin as she negotiates with Gesrik, Thrandimir deliberately snorts a suppressed chuckle of derision in reaction to the hobgoblin's words, sniggering provocatively to himself at the self-righteous hubris of the would-be bandit lord.

The static current that is Thrandimir hums in Ascian's mind and he glances to the side to the tabaxi on the other side of the cavern, giving him a short nod. Yes,  he replies with little fanfare, drawing back his bowstring. In tandem an arrow and bolt soar from the cave mouth, clipping within a hair's breadth of the gathered party that blocks them to thud in perfect synchrony into each of the hobgoblin's shoulders. The mark is as true as Ascian has ever shot, and he's already lowering his bow with an unimpressed expression, expecting the warrior to crumble – his arms stop midway when instead Gesrik pauses, momentarily staggered, but doesn't so much as bleed. Above them, as if summoned by his own, arrows rain down upon those unprotected by the cavern, finding marks in Katrin and Kaed. Unnerved, Ash slides a second air from the quiver on his back and fires it just as fluidly, glancing it into the warrior's arm in a shot the hobgoblin barely seems to acknowledge. This time his bow does lower, and a faint frown pinches his pale brow as he looks from Gesrik to Thrandimir to the broader field that awaits them. Maybe not.

With a snarl, Gesrik reaches out and puts his hand on the kneeling bandit's shoulder. His eyes widen and a guttural cry erupts from the mutilated mouth. Essence oozes out of the man and into Gesrik, causing his wounds to seal around the arrow shafts still embedded in his shoulder. He directs a glare toward the party. "Let it be known I tried to work this out peacefully."

" Katrin, I will buy as much time as I can. Make him pay." Kaed doesn't look back as he bursts forward into the middle of a pack of the enemy, bearing down on Gesrik as if nobody else in the world exists, slashing hard with his blade as strands of shadow pour out of him, and the blade frosts up as the strange energies leak out. The momentum of his attack rocks his adversary for a moment but Kaed knows his attack has done little to stop their foe, he wills himself to stay strong and to endure the certain retaliation, the longer he can buy the others the greater the chance Gesrik will fall.

Gesrik quickly recovers from Kaed's slash and rakes his blade across his own arm, the blood causing the crystal to burst into flames. The blade -- no, blades  slash down at Kaed. The barbarian can see two spectral copies of the blade cutting down toward him. Kaed takes 13 points of slashing damage and 1 point of fire damage to vigor, reduced to 10 points of slashing damage and 1 point of fire damage by DR, resisted to 5 points of slashing damage and 1 point of fire damage to vigor.

Kou bolts in after Kaed, flipping over Francis he rushes Gesrik hoping to catch the goblin by surprise. Wrapping his arm around the hobgoblin and attempting to grapple him down, but the man proves stronger than expected and even straining himself he isn't able to pin the man down. Switching strategies he jumps back and slashes out with claws connecting but unfortunately most of the impact is absorbed by the man's armor.  Turning his head slightly he yells to Francis and his brother "Take cover in the cave, we will hold him back!"

The archers let out a volley of arrows that rain down upon the group, each one grazing off armor or finding purchase on unprotected skin. One arrow from an archer perched in a tree strikes Kaed in the clavicle, burying itself there. Kaed takes 18 points of piercing damage to vigor and 2 points of piercing damage to wounds, reduced to 15 by DR, resisted to 7 by rage. Kaed takes 6 points of piercing damage to vigor, reduced to 3 by DR, resisted to 1 by rage. Kou takes 8 points of piercing damage to vigor. Katrin takes 9 points of piercing damage to vigor, reduced to 6 by DR. Callahan takes 10 points of piercing damage to vigor, reduced to 8 by DR. Kou and Kaed can feel magic begin to lock up their muscles -- an attempt to hold them in place by the two robed figures. Both men resist the effects and the mages back away. The two men who seem to be lieutenants advance between their boss and the party.

Still reeling from the arrows that had pierced her skin, Katrin watches as Kaed and Kou rush Gesrik. Her eyes flit around, to the trees, to the cliffside. Those archers are going to be a pain in the ass. Looking one more time at Gesrik, Katrin steps back to the mouth of the cave, taking shelter in the opening, out of sight of most of the archers. She hopes. She turns her eyes once more to Gesrik, and her grey eyes glow like coals, and she whispers, "Burn." His armor begins to glow red-hot and slowly burn into his skin.

Gesrik grimaces as his armor begins to heat up. With preternatural speed, he retreats from Kaed and Kou and shouts, "Focus your fire on the dwarf!" Fliek steps in front of Callahan. She claps her hands together and lets loose a blast of swirling cold energy. It freezes the mage solid and the thugs cry out in pain. Gesrik and his lieutenant are chilled, but look otherwise unharmed. She looks sideways at Thrandimir and Callahan. "Don't ask questions."

The fear rises quickly now, the flurry of arrows assailing them from all directions. Cal winces at the pain in his arm where an arrow grazed through the sleeve of his coat, taking with it a chunk of flesh. Red stains blue as he searches for what to do. It doesn't take much thought; instinct takes over soon enough. The flurry of the stars swirls over him, his eyes glowing up from a fearful stare into a confident glare. He doesn't hesitate, locking his eyes on the fleeing hobgoblin. A barrage of radiant fire soars from him, finding strong purchase in his armor. Almost as quickly, Cal falls back into the safety of the cave.

Gesrik's longsword wielding thugs take two different approaches. The ones that were hurt by Fliek's cone of cold stagger back, keeping out of the way and each quaffing a potion. The two near the wagon advance, one against Thrandimir and one against Kaed. Thrandimir is able to maneuver away from one of the strikes, but the blade cuts across his shoulder. Thrandimir takes 15 points of slashing damage to vigor and 2 points of slashing damage to wounds, resulting in a minor scar. The thug advancing on Kaed lands two devastating blows, one of which the barbarian barely knocks aside. The thug grins victoriously, but has only drawn two bloody lines across the tribesman's chest. Kaed takes 15 points of slashing damage to vigor and 2 points of slashing damage to wounds, parried to 9, reduced to 6 by DR, halved to 3 and 2 wounds by rage. Kaed takes 14 points of slashing damage to vigor and 2 points of slashing damage to wounds, reduced to 11 by DR, halved to 5 and 2 wounds by rage. Bo, Terry, as well as Francis and his mute brother flee for the cave entrance. The thug that just wounded Thrandimir reverses his blade and slashes at the fleeing former bandit, but only rakes across Bo's leathers. Bo takes 7 points of slashing damage to vigor, reduced to 6 by DR. Thrandimir's action.

Thrandimir's staff twirls, arcing through the air just in time to catch the bandit's blade before it can do serious harm. However, he's nevertheless left bleeding and quickly falls back towards the cave, plucking a little stoppered vial from his belt as he goes. Once the wizard has glugged down the healing potion, he turns his attention to Katrin. Tempus's curse on Gesrik's armour might just be their one way out of this situation - and that meant that the cleric had to be protected. In a rare moment of selflessness, Thrandimir plucks an eyelash coated in gum from the pouch at his belt and blows it towards Katrin. The dwarf blinks out of sight and the wizard continues on into the caves.

With a shout bordering between a cry of pain and battlecry, Gesrik closes the distance between himself and Kou. His blade whirls and slashes in an onslaught of fierce destructive power. Kou's training helps him to evade the crystalline blade, occasionally blocking a blow with a clawed gauntlet. Gesrik's face is contorted in pain and he makes one final slash -- this one cutting deep into the Keeper's torso and knocking him forward into the hobgoblin. Gesrik catches Kou with a knee. The monk-cleric can feel the blade break skin just above the fleshy, empty spot between clavicle and scapula. He can see a cold sort of sorrow in Gesrik's eyes. "I am sorry that it came to this," the hobgoblin says, grunting through his own pain.

Kou's face twists into a grimace as the blade cuts into his shoulder.  Part of the monk surprised by the lack of pain, though the healer in him whispers "You are in shock, and likely dying". As the Hobgoblin drives his knee into Kou's gut, despair builds in the former Keeper. His speed had failed him, even Tempus' shield had been broken by the bandits onslaught.  Lifting his head his silvery grey eyes blurry and beginning to lose focus. Through the chaos of the battle he catches sight of Francis and his brother making their way into the cave. Those who had sworn an oath to his god. Until his final breath he owed them the chance to see it through. Kou's determination reignited, he uses his remaining strength to wrap his arms around Gesrik and unleash Tempus' fury. Yelling with the last of his strength "Do not forsake your oath!" as a dazzling display of lightning erupts from the man, energy bolting from his wounds and arcing into the goblin. Slumping into the monster as his body fails him, he looks to his companions a small smile forming on his face. These are people of great power and tremendous courage, they would find their way out of here and use their gifts to save Fireblade. He did not fear what comes next, he knew the gods would judge him well. Tempus commandments while difficult to follow were simple. His followers were to be fearless, to never turn from a fight, and to obey the rules of war. Kou had lived his life by these guidelines since he pledged himself to the God. He was certain Tempus would welcome him into his halls. His death would not be his end, just the beginning of his next adventure. Looking up he sees Gresik lifting his crystal blade to finish him, and Kou meets his end with a smile.

"Rest well, Keeper," the hobgoblin says even as his muscles twitch from the lightning. The blade plunges down and the light leaves Kou's eyes. His body crumples to the ground as Gesrik withdraws the blade. Brightness. Darkness. Whirling wind. Lightning strikes. Thunder rumbles across the lands. Welcome to your well-earned rest, blessed son of the storm. Gesrik falls back as his armor continues to burn away at his strength. 

The hobgoblin moves, and Kou doesn't, and Ascian's bow stills, though it shouldn't. A numb sort of tide breaks through him, sloshing with acidity at the pit of his stomach as he watches the Keeper's body hit the grass.  No,  he thinks distantly.  That's not right.  And it isn't. He hasn't known Kou long, but what he has known of him is  movement  – the man had been quick and agile and ongoing, a constant source of speed. Seeing him still feels wrong in all the ways the rising wave in his core is telling him is nevertheless true; the way that Gesrik has  made  true. But they have healed wounds before, the clerics, haven't they; there are potions to be had and spells to be cast and wounds to be closed. They couldn't cure you,  he reminds himself just as fast, just as dully, but that too is wrong; he thinks of Kou's shining curiosity when he'd first told them of his predicament – of the way the Keeper had methodically looked him over as a healer might have, thorough and clinical, with none of the judgment Ascian had so feared. In the back of his mind the bright, static current that is Thrandimir fades, and Ascian mentally reaches without thinking towards the field – expecting to feel the rustle of wind through leaves, perhaps, or the calming, unending stream of a current; something fast and smooth and moving, something unmistakably  Kou.  There's a second, just one, where he feels the brush of something electric; something he thinks at first might again be Thrandimir, static and buzzing. But this isn't wild bursts like the wizard, firing in a dozen different simmering directions; this is something concentrated, and something constant, and something fading – something pure. That sense of heavy dread beginning to lace with the arsenic of anxiety, Ascian reaches for it, mentally grasping, thinking of speed and timing and magic and  cures . No. Without thinking, his bow lifts, and another arrow fires at Gesrik, sinking into the hobgoblin's arm at the same time the lightning in the back of his mind strikes downward, and then just as fast blinks out.

Flimm spies the lieutenant rushing his sister and fires a crossbow bolt that grazes past the man's torso. "Get out of there, Fliek!" Gesrik falls back even farther. He shouts loud enough so that Katrin can hear. "Drop this spell und we'll let you go! Otherwise my men will kill each und everyone one of you!"

"You wouldn't try to bargain if we didn't have you by the balls, Gesrik!" Thrandimir bellows back from inside the entrance to the caves. "Have your men stand down or my Dwarven friend will cook you like a lobster in that armoured shell of yours! She'll release her hold on you when our safe passage with those we liberated and all our spoils is assured and not a moment before!" Thrandimir grins hysterically as he talks, his eyes wide with adrenaline, but those nearby can see the sweat running dark against the side of his face.

Gesrik grunts in pain, but raises his hand. "Hold," he shouts. Obediently, the archers' bowstrings loosen. The thug advancing on Kaed takes a step back. The two lieutenants moving toward the cave stop in their tracks. "Let them pass. Your horses are nearby, take them, take your fallen comrade, take your spoils und go."

Thrandimir releases a breath that he hadn't realised that he was holding, but maintains the illusion shielding Katrin from view. "Let's go," he tells his allies quietly. "Katrin, hold your spell ready and get on the back of the cart. Just in case."

As the wizard steps out of the cave, Katrin grabs his arm, pulling herself in front of him, despite the fact that he can't see her. "No." Her voice is hard as forged steel. "Drop your spell, Wizard. I will not hide from this creature. I cannot." 

Thrandimir gives the empty air in front of him a long, measured stare. "You do realise that you're the only thing keeping us all alive? If those archers lay eyes on you, you won't take another step and the rest of us will never live to see Fireblade. Didn't you promise Rose that you'd come back?"

Kaed drops to his knees next to the still form of Kou, even as he fumbles in his pouch with blood slicked fingers, finally finding a healing potion and raising it to his lips drinking it down despite his arm beginning to shake as the wounds start to take their toll. His head spinning from blood loss he starts to feel the magic, realising suddenly how close to death he himself had been. The satisfaction of a final strike at Gesrik would probably have been his last act and despite the anger and hurt he knows deep down he is not ready to go yet and the traitorous thoughts that seem like cowardice make him shudder. The young tribesmen looks down at the face of his friend, the grey eyes staring straight up to the heavens. " Tempus would be proud, you were a fine servant of his. I am sorry, I wish I had been..." his words choke up as he " It does not end here, I swear it." He runs a hand gently over Kou's eyes closing them, immediately sorry that he has smeared a little of his own blood on the former Keeper's brow, before lifting him up. Despite the pain his wounds cause him he remains stoic refusing to let Gesrik or the others see how weak he is. Locking eyes with the hobgoblin he stares murderously at him, his desires clear. Then he moves away towards the  horses, not looking back at thr rest of the party.

Katrin is silent for a long moment, letting the other pass by them to prepare for departure.  "You're right. I did. But how could I face her again, knowing that I hid from my enemy? That's not me. And she knows that. Gesrik will continue to burn until I say otherwise."  She pauses, her grip tightening on her sword as her anger builds.  "I will get in the cart. For your sake. But I won't do it like this." She turns on her heel, storming towards the cart. As she reaches it, her breath quickens as her anger builds. Anger towards Gesrik. Anger at herself. Anger at that insufferable wizard. It barely registers in her mind that her hammer has somehow made it to her hand. She screams, striking the cart with a decisive and deadening blow. Her eyes are wild as she looks back to Thrandimir, and the frustrated look in his eyes tells her all she needs to know.  She pulls herself up onto the cart, shaking from adrenaline. "Do not follow us."  She pauses to calm herself. She looks back to Thrandimir, then glances up to where she knows the archers are watching. Her burning eyes return to Gesrik, a deadly warning held inside them. 

The feral scream from the dwarven cleric prompts the tightening sound of archers tensing their bowstrings, but Gesrik calls out. "Hold! Any man that looses an arrow dies by my hand." He looks back at Katrin, the dull orange glow from his armor shining in his cold eyes. "You will not be followed. But we will meet again.  Das schwöre ich dir. "

Thrandimir's eyes never leave Gesrik as he exits the cave, not trusting the hobgoblin's word for a moment. "Everyone grab your stuff. We're leaving," he tells his companions firmly, in case anybody else has delusions of grandeur or revenge. Today was not the day. "Put Kou on the cart. He deserves a Keeper's funeral."

Katrin's head tilts slightly, a slight smile of satisfaction creeping onto her face, her eyes matching the coloring of his heated armor. "Bis dann, Gesrik."

In the heat of the moment, as arrows rained and blood spilled, Cal's mind - suffused as it was with the swirling thoughts of a thousand stars - had zoned in completely, amplifying the cacophony of battle into a chorus of clashes and beats, like a song penned in steel. He need only read the notes to know what part to play.  Archers line the outcropping. Mages ahead, need to be removed from play quickly. No. Too many. Retreat to the tomb? The others must be told to-  a gasp from somewhere in this tunnel catches his attention - a shift in the melody he hadn't anticipated. Had they made it in here already? No, didn't seem very likely, so what were they... his glowing eyes scanned the battlefield, searching for whatever big threat approached. The pounding of his heart - the steady percussion of the battle - grew faster. Louder. The intaking of air; the thudding of boots; the shrieking of metal - a burdening crescendo of violence welling up as either fear or awareness though he knew not which until- The keeper.   Kou's body slid off Gesrik's blade, slouching before falling, falling, falling to the ground. And in that moment, quiet. The seconds crawled by. Like the darkness he'd been made to endure in the tomb, the deafening silence returned. But the panic did not. Out in the field, as the light still faded from the eyes of his friend, arrows jutted from wounds in the earth near spots where boots scarred grass and freshly upturned dirt sits splattered in a coat of red. In just seconds a field of blooming life lay marred with death.  Before he realized it the fight was over, the battle done. The others moved from the cave entrance, milling out into the field towards the keeper's corpse. The once-fiercely glowing swirl of stars around Cal had fallen quite soft and still. He felt a twinge in his muscles telling him to move, to join the others. Arrangements would need to be made, for sure. Kou was a man of faith. He lives -   no, lived , he corrected himself  - by a creed. Honoring that creed even in death would be essential. But the muscles wouldn't move. The glow of his eyes dimmed into a cold haze that stared ahead, locked firmly on the body in the distance. A body that had 'til just moments ago been a friend. A body that had laughed and fought, reasoned and protected... wagered and gambled. No, not like this . Fighting against his own body, he forced his eyes shut, though the image of the body in the grass lingered. Instead, he forced it back. Then . There , all that time ago now. Sitting in that chair, face warm and kind. An arm extends a welcoming hand to a chair nearby. A nod of acknowledgement followed by a short bow. " My name is Kou Shin,"  the man grins up at him,  "it is nice to meet you Callahan." There . That will be the memory. That is the man he knew. That is the Keeper. Not this. He found it fortunate the fight had ended without further bloodshed, for he had none left in him. What had come as a battle hymn went out an elegy - and he wanted no part of it any longer.

With Kou's body resting in Thrandimir's cart, everyone saddles their horses and rides away, back toward the road. The bandits make no move to follow, they simply watch, on their guard, as the precession of horses and cart move away in somber silence.  A tension hangs in the still afternoon air, strung between the two groups on cords of anger and desire for revenge. Katrin's farwell to Kou's murderer the last words spoken aloud over the bloody battlefield. Katrin drops her spell as the party moves out of sight.  The two tabaxi share Kou's horse while the four former bandits walk beside the cart. Their faces show their nervousness and their desire to get as far away from Gesrik as possible. At the road, Fliek and Flimm dismount from Kou's horse and give the lead to Kaed. Fliek speaks softly, but her voice is still jarring in the silence. "I'm sorry about your friend," she says. She drops what looks to be a large bronze coin into Katrin's palm. Carved into the coin's surface is a fleur-de-lis with words wrapping around it: Wayfarer's Guild.   "If you lot ever find yourselves in The Crossroads, look us up. And keep the wares you found on the bandits. Think of it as a sympathy gift."

Katrin stares at the coin in her hand, then nods to the two Tabaxi. "Thank you." Her voice cracks slightly from the silence. Slipping it into one of her pockets, she walks from the cart to her pony, hauling herself up into the saddle. She doesn't say anything, but then, she doesn't need to. Or she doesn't want to. 

The party gets some good distance on the road back west before the sun begins to set. They pull off the road at a hill with a nice sheltered outcropping and begin setting up camp.

Katrin leans her head against Bill's neck after she dismounts, closing her eyes for a long moment. Sighing, she lifts her head, rubbing Bill's nose before walking towards the ongoing preparations for the night. The whole world feels muted. The colors are less bright, and the only sound is the wind rustling the trees and grass. She looks over to where Thrandimir is standing, before making her way over to him. She stares at him, a flicker of anger still burning in her eyes. "You owe me an explanation." She turns abruptly, walking a good distance from the camp, turning again, gesturing for him to follow. When he reaches her, she crosses her arms. "You've not been entirely truthful. Not that you would be anyway, given what I know about you."

" Do I now?" Thrandimir remarks, puffing on his pipe in amusement at Katrin's abrupt demand. However, the wizard follows the Dwarf nevertheless. "...and what is it that I've not been truthful about?"

Katrin raises an eyebrow, but her expression remains unchanged. "You. You're not as old as you claim to be. Thrandimir. "

Thrandimir barks a laugh at Katrin's strange accusation. "I've found that very few people in life are, my dear, but it's generally considered rude to call it out," the wizard adds with a cheeky wink. "Now, why exactly are you of the opinion that I owe you an explanation of my age , of all things?"