Days turned to nights, as they traveled without any further attacks or even trace of bandit activity. Stopping by a farm, Olaf asked if they had met a Runner with a message for Alebridge, fearing that the runner Hemgård sent had been intercepted. But it appeared he had passed by quite a while ago, which set some of the party more at ease. All the while as they traveled, Saga and Sasha sat side by side, taking the reigns of their wagon's oxen. Saga would talk of home, mainly the similar animals, and how everything seemed much bigger in this world.

Sasha would talk about the more fantastical creatures, such as the Lindorm, and mentioned the Wyrms, half-dragons of the North that once plagued the countryside. They talked briefly about the undead, and however, since the Jarless ill-fated vision quest, the occasional packs of undead animal and draugr would come out of the northernmost forests and need to be met with extreme force. A small, if a fragile sense of normality began to take shape again, as they went without any more trouble on their journey.

By the time they reached the next stop on the road, the rolling landscape of fields was replaced with rocky and cliffy hills and sparse pine forests. They had just passed a massive stone quarry and along the way, they began to see how smaller rivers were joining into an ever-widening, bigger one.

The next village that was their next stop was next to a very large river, and as they entered, two very different-looking guards from the two that had been working with the bandits, approached them. They both wore the same leather armor and a metal breastplate, with identical iron helmets. Each guard carried an ax and a spear of some variety as well.

“Olaf” One of them greeted and Olaf shook his hand. The man was an old slightly tanned and grey-haired man who looked weathered and with a scar running across his throat, up to the top of his chin. “I can see from the look of your caravan you ran into trouble.” His voice was serious, his eyes sharp.

“Details I can't tell you here and now. But they were bandits, with help. We lost one of the guards. Rolf.”

“Ah, Bann’s Balls.” The old man said, his voice tired and upset at the news. “He was a good lad. Not local, but popular with the kids when he came through. He’d always have some sweets he kept. He said he might move out here one day.” The man said with a weak smile.

“I am sorry for your loss. He died fighting three of them but was blindsided by a Necrotic Arrow. I’d let you see him, but it isn't pretty.” Olaf said and the old guard shook his head. “Better I do not. We will help you unload the heavy goods onto a barge and get you fresh mounts to take you the last of the way to Aleport with the provisions and merchant carts.”

“Any news on the Trolls?” Lenara butted in, as she was looking at one of her maps.

“Sadly, Yes. It's a rock troll. It has driven away all the smaller ones of its kind and we have been taking the long way around it. We need better people than we can spare if we want to kill it. ”

“We’d offer to deal with it, but with how things have gone so far, we will be better off taking the safer route.”

“I figured as much. It’s not ideal, but trade has continued mostly unhindered with the river barges and the multiple roads. We’ll manage. If you need room and food, we have that. You arrived just as many others finished up their business in town. Both inns should have plenty of room.” He said and Olaf nodded, grateful.

“Thank you.” He said and the two shook hands and parted ways. The caravan continued deeper into the village, which was a magnitude larger than the last one. The wide, slow-moving river had a dock where large barges awaited goods to be loaded with. The caravans lumber and ice or what was left of it at least was put onto one of these barges and ferried off. The two wagons that had now been cleared of their heavy load were put into a wagon yard as two fresh guards also filled in for the distraught half-giant and her dead friend. Saga and the others saw the guard off with a little extra coin and Olaf offered to take her to the city but she declined. There was a dead priest in town to tend to Rolfs's eventual funeral and his parents would be notified shortly.

The inn they chose to stay in was called “Rose in Winter” and was a lot better than the small one they had stayed outside of in the smaller village a few days prior. Saga was sitting with a flagon on mead in the common room when Sasha sat down with her flagon, hers filled with dark, almost ruby-colored ale.

“I didn't realize you had a sweet tooth.” She said, nodding to Sagas mead. Saga raised an eyebrow. “I do have one. But surely mead doesn't count, right?”

“The mead here sure does. It's too sweet as to rot my teeth. I need something more… “

“Bitter. I drank the ale around here, you guys brew some dark and bitter ales. It's like drinking bread that hates you.” Saga countered.

“Hah. I suppose we do” She said as she drank deep from her flagon, then leaned back.

“This does not count as Drinking and Talking by the way.” Saga said while taking a drink of her sweet mead, enjoying the taste of wild honey.

“Agreed,” Sasha said. “As much as I love the others, I don’t think I want to do that kind of drink and talking knowing they are all whispering between each other and stealing glances at what we are doing.” She said the last part loud enough for Vetra, Ingrid, and Ordan to look up sheepishly from their table and give the two lovers a trio of cheeky grins.

“This is so very bizarre.” Saga mused and Sasha nodded in silent agreement as the two enjoyed the rest of their drink while sharing a look that said a lot more than Saga could hope to convey in words.

That night the two shared a room and soon became very aware that Ingrid and Olaf had no reservations or concerns about privacy compared to the two of them. Those walls were not thick enough, and Saga was sure there were no thick enough walls in the world. So Saga covered their head with the pillow and tried to sleep as Sasha appeared to have no problem sleeping despite the rather loud noises.

As morning came, Saga awoke with their hair in a frizzy crown of defiance of all things decent. They dragged themselves out of bed and groaned as they felt as if they had not gotten to sleep all that well. They weren't one to deny their friends their very loud celebration of life, but they did feel like there were grains of sand in their eyes as a result. Sasha was nowhere to be seen, but Saga saw that she had left a little note. They looked at it and realized they could not read it as they were illiterate when it came to this language, even though they spoke it just fine apparently. It was something they had meant to ask about, but a the time they had just been happy they could speak to people around here.

As they slipped down the stairs, they ordered breakfast. They asked the innkeeper about Sasha and apparently she had slipped out about 20 minutes before Saga woke up. Saga sat down and nursed a hot mug of something called autumn brew, which to their delight turned out to be hot chocolate, or something very close to it. They sipped it and felt instantly a bit less sore about losing so much sleep. That's when Ordan slipped Saga some pieces of hardened wax wrapped in paper and moldable, softer wax onto her table.

“I forgot to warn you. If you ever live next to people so enthusiastic about each other as those two, you might need these. “ He said with a smile that was both amused and sympathetic.

“Thanks, I think?” They answered, looking at the things. They reminded them of the earplugs they had forgotten to wear at their first rock concert. They still had slightly worse hearing in one ear after that.

“You are very welcome, trust me, you’ll thank me,” Ordan said with a chuckle. He had switched out of the dark, very thick robes he wore before and switched to something a bit lighter, all in red and blacks that looked very slick on him. A fox-like animal fur wrapped about his neck and shoulder, complete with the head that had one of the buckles fastened in its mouth. Saga could appreciate the craftsmanship and style. It was evident that out of all of them, Ordan always rocked the best outfits.

“I’ll take your word for it.” Saga said as they pocketed the earplugs with a sense that Ordan might just be onto something. “I didn’t see you anywhere after we got to the Inn.” They remarked.

“Let us just say, I have a little more class,” Ordan said before he opened the door to step out. “And I do not kiss and tell.”

“Uhuh.” Saga scoffed but Ordan just slinked out the door without waiting for a reply. Instead, Sasha slipped back into the inn, heading for Saga's table. “Morning” Saga said and Sasha beamed at them as she slipped into the chair next to them.

“Morning.” She said as she produced a sweet-smelling bun of some kind. “For the sweet tooth,” She said and grinned as Saga tried to remain dignified while also snatching the bun with the speed of a cobra. They bit into it and made a noise they were pretty sure counted as indecent. The bread was fluffy, and it was filled with what was this world's version of blueberry jam. They devoured the thing as slow as they could to savor it, but it was still gone not soon after the first bite.

“Ok. Maybe I have a bit of a sweet tooth.” They said sheepishly but Sasha just laughed.

“They are quite good.” She said, biting into her own. She ate with a lot more control even if she did make a very pleasing face once she bit down on the parts with jam. She was just a lot more controlled about it. Like with everything else it seemed, Sasha was a master of self-control when it came to sweets.

“The others ready to go?”

“Yeah. Olaf should be back soon, he went to fix the last of the provisions for the last leg of the trip. We won't be stopping at any village between here and Aleport, so he wants to make sure we have lots to drink and eat. We are taking the longer route, following the big river bank.

“To avoid the rock troll, yeah?”

“Exactly. I've never seen one in person before but they are supposed to be quite hard to crack. Literally. And after the ambush, Olaf wants to play it safe.”

“I appreciate that. This journey has been exciting enough.” Saga said as they finished the last of the Hot Cocoa. Paying the Innkeeper a few extra copper coins and a silver one, all formerly bandit coins, they left the inn together. Olaf was talking to the Caravan Leader who looked up and waved to the two of them. Saga had never talked to the man during the entirety of the trip but the man shook their hand with gusto as soon as they approached.

“Thank you, you warrior, for saving us. If you had not been holding the flanks of my Caravan, the bastards would have gotten into the wagons for sure. He motioned to one of the remaining wagons. There were only three now, aside from the carriage of Jasper, who was blessedly absent at the moment. Saga saw a child sitting in an older woman's lap, talking animatedly. “That is my wife and my granddaughter. Both are alive thanks to you and your friends' efforts.” He said and looked at Saga who had to take a moment to mull over what he had said. They had not even considered the fact that the attackers could have gotten into the wagons. They were mostly just trying not to die themselves. They looked to the older woman, whose eyes looked upon that child with such worry and love. And knew that if the bandits had gotten into the wagons, neither would be sitting there.

“Think nothing of it.” Saga said, still looking. “If you have the power to, you help people.” They say as their voice took a different tone from what anyone had heard from them since getting here. “Whenever and however you can. If you do not, you are nothing but another bandit, you are just smarter about how you take advantage of your powers and others.” As they spoke, both Sasha and Olaf shared a look before glancing back at Saga who was still looking at the child and woman, their eyes had a fire to them. A need to do better. Saga remembered the elderly couple who died together, cut down by people just like the bandit's Saga had helped defend the caravan against. Saga would become stronger, and they would see to it that this Ainar person was brought to heel and many others like him as well.

“You ok, Sweetooth?” Sasha asked and the absurdity of hearing that nickname while thinking of such grim and heavy realities made the berserker snap out of it with a look of utter befuddlement.

“Huh. What. Yeah, I am fine. And please Sasha, don’t try and make that a thing.” They said as they turned to look at the warrior woman who had managed to utterly crawl under their defenses and had now turned to the forbidden art of silly nicknames.

“No promises,” Sasha said to a groan from Saga. Olaf gave Saga an evaluating look as if seeing them for the first time.

“Sweet tooth?” They asked two which they got the kind of glare that had stopped armies from advancing

“No,” Saga said in a voice that promised unspeakable violence.

“Gotcha,” Olaf said, immediately raising his hands to the side as if dissuading an irate animal from goring him.

Saga muttered something about indignities and hurried towards their wagon, Sasha following with a not so sincere apology, still trying not to laugh.

The last leg of their journey was finally upon them.

Alebridge awaits.