Ayuen
Tressin’s Pass, between Herhor’s End and Maiden's Vale, The Grasping Isle
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Before they left Herhor’s End, the three of them rented two spare horses that would take them to Tinkersong. The horses weren’t the best hands could buy, but it beat out walking for sure. The northern part of the Shieldhead Woods was still a risky place to travel through according to their Herhor guide. As such, they sped out of the woods with haste as soon as they’d left Herhor’s End, giving their horses little rest until they were in a saver area. For Ayuen, this wasn’t a very comfortable ride. Her bottom began aching after riding for a mere couple of minutes. But alas, this was needed. She gritted her teeth as she muscled through. Although this part should probably be left out of any eventual poems that are made of this trip. Just imagine, people having to read about aching bums. The thought did bring a smile on her face for a fraction of a second before it was smashed into a grimace by a combination of a hard saddle and the rough waving motions of a galloping horse.
She could’ve flown, but flying above the treetops in sight of any bandits on the lookout wasn’t the best of ideas. And Rove and Trïeste wouldn’t be able to help if she was up there in the air. That was the entire reason that she didn't just fly to where she needed to go. She was a wanted woman, people would be looking. Plus, she was woefully unfamiliar with the lay of the land and its people. She needed guides more than she needed swift travel.
Eventually, the dense woods began to thin out and a hilly landscape began to take its place. When they left the last big group of old oaks behind them, all three of them breathed a collective sigh of relief. This far north and with less cover for any bandits, they had less chance to run into any enemies without them being able to set up an ambush. Even more, they were close to a Herhor guard post called Tressin’s Pass now. Here, they could ease down a bit and spare their animals, much to Trïeste’s mirth. The girl had complained multiple times too that her muscles hurt ‘as if beaten bloody by a stick’. Ayuen had similar issues but put it rather differently. More poetic.
Trïeste’s presence in their merry band caused a major shift in the atmosphere, as well as their luck in general. Gone were the awkward, silent evenings. Gone was a large part of the tension. The young Vysari’s outgoing personality did wonders for both her and Rove, she had noticed. She had a companion to reciprocate her casual banter during the evenings. And Rove, although he was initially cold and distant, had quickly warmed up to Trïeste. Her inquisitive nature and Rove’s vast experience and knowledge regarding the harsher side of life on the Grasping Isle were a good match. A sort of mentor-student vibe.
Tressin’s Pass itself was a relatively small fortification, made out of rough stone and wood. In the eyes of a rag-tag and ill-equipped band of bandits, it could as easily have been a full-fledged fortress manned by hundreds of musketeers. Ayuen’s hands twitched when she thought about muskets and pistols. She was fascinated by them, but they’d been far too expensive for her to use. She’d been forced to use a bow instead. Her mother had one to use in her duties though, and she let Ayuen practice with it back home. She knew how to fire one, but couldn’t quite use that skill. Maybe in the future.
Two main towers looked over the main road, reaching for the skies with rough rocky fingers. The hills near the two towers were lower, leaving virtually no cover for an opposing force to take cover. Some of the surrounding hills also had been blocked or fortified, and on the top of the tower on the left of the road, Ayuen could see a large pile of wood. A bonfire, in case Maiden’s Vale had to be warned of an imminent threat. A force of about thirty men and women could be seen outside and on top of the towers, their eyes intently focused on their little group as they closed the distance.
She was a bit wary of the men at first, but as Rove led his horse to the side of the road, she followed. They fastened the horses near a patch of grass beside the road, a good fifty paces away from the towers. Ayuen hopped off her horse, stretching her shoulders and legs a bit before hiding behind some vegetation to do the same to her wings. During the journey, she’d explained to Trïeste what her goals were, expecting a bit of surprise at the revelation that she was a Pyrn. But the girl had been mostly unphased by her race, although she did admit it was the first time she’d seen one of her kind.
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With her notebook in hand, the Pyrn poët looked around rather excitedly as Rove did his thing, making rough sketches of the towers. Writing down the words that her mind conjured at the sight and sounds. Her pencil almost changed into a blur as it shot across the paper, leaving notes and sketches behind. Her attention focussed on jutting this information down as effectively as possible. After a few minutes, her focus was broken by a tap on her shoulder. She looked up to see Trïeste looking at her with a sheepish smile, pointing a thumb behind her towards Rove’s back, the Herhor exchanging a couple of words with the guards. The atmosphere was becoming more relaxed and laid back. They seemed to know him. It appeared to be quite a small world, this whole Herhor business. Then again, there weren’t a large number of people on this island to begin with.
She answered Trïeste smile with a somewhat apologetic nod of her own and she put her notebook away again. Quickening her pace, the two of them caught up with their travel companion. Their Herhor was talking to one of the guards in a hushed tone, showing him some rolls of parchment in the process while a guardswoman stamped the document with a wax seal. The whole exchange only lasted a minute or so before Rove turned back to them.
“We can pass now, everything is in order. We can relax a bit. There are safer waters after Tressin’s Pass on the way to Maiden’s Vale. Bandit groups are rare after this point.”
“Excellent news!” Ayuen exclaimed, clapping her hands together joyfully as she hopped on her feet in excitement. She was getting tired of sleeping without campfires the last couple of days and being on full alert all the time. It had been a mere five days since they left Herhor’s End, but she was not cut out for that sort of thing.
“So we can sleep without… Y’know… Worryin’ all night long?” Trïeste chimed in, rolling her shoulders. The Herhors that manned the pass sniggered when they heard their reaction to the news.
“Don’t you worry, miss. No ragtag bunch o’ bandits gonna pass by us without losing their heads.” An older Human Herhor called down from one of the towers, his beard starting to show grey. His bronze halberd shone in the afternoon sun though. “Ain’t that right, lads and ladettes?”
With a soft murmur of sniggering, laughter, and gestures, the warriors present confirmed the man’s claims. Quite the confident group. She looked up towards the man above in the tower and gave him a merry wave.
“I’ll take your word for it, good man. I just hope you all possess as much prowess as the number of pretty words coming from your mouth!”
More laughing ensued and the man’s face retreated out of sight after letting out a burst of bellowing laughter. Trïeste stuck her tongue out towards the group, which led to more mirth.
Rove meanwhile just looked at his colleagues with a smile, after which he focussed back on her and Trïeste. He shook his head as he spoke up to them.
“Though despite our relative safety, a watch would still be a necessary evil. But, we can get a warm fire going tonight. And by tomorrow afternoon, we should arrive at Maiden’s Vale. You can cuddle up in a warm bed then. Blankets and all.” A small smile formed around his lips and his eyes sparkled a bit. “I’ll even allow you two to skip part of your watches in town, how’s that?”
Ayuen glared at the smug Herhor. She heard Trïeste grunt next to her at the Herhor’s sense of humour. Rove knew how much she and Trïeste struggled with the night out here in the wild. She more than Trïeste, but both of them didn’t like the wilds much. Admittedly though, she was slowly getting used to this whole camping deal. Her muscles didn’t cramp up as much as they did at the start of their journey and she had caught herself waking up at roughly the same times every night, sometimes a mere couple of minutes before it was her turn to take watch. Maybe she would even get used to it in the future. By Garemba’s Glasses, she might change to even like it in time. She quickly banished that thought from her head. Better to not let Rove know she was adapting. Or else she’d have more watches to do later on.
“An amusing joke, sir Rove,” Ayuen responded as dryly as she could muster. Her glinting eyes betrayed her relief though. “I wouldn’t have expected such humour from the likes of you.”
She saw one corner of Rove’s mouth curling up ever so slightly before the Herhor let out a chuckling huff and turned around, walking back to the horses again at a brisk pace. The party quickly saddled up and rode between the two towers, the Herhors wishing them a good journey, a good day and other pleasantries. Her cheeks reddened quite a bit as she heard some comments about her and Rove, but she decided to just not to react to them and ride on stubbornly.
With her mood being given a proper boost, Ayuen couldn’t help but start to whistle a soft melody and next to her, she heard Trïeste humming a similar tune.
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