Henifor Plains: that was the next leg of their journey. It was not radically different from Jocund Fields in most ways, but it was a bit bigger. Crossing it would give Livia time to meditate on her time in Acrevil, and all that it had entailed. That was, of course, provided they did not encounter too many distractions on the road.

Their departure from Acrevil hadn’t drawn a crowd or anything, but it didn’t pass unmarked either. The O’fry brothers and the barmaid halflings had made certain to see them off, and Livia, Krey, and Emilie all got the impression that this wasn’t exactly a normal occurrence. Livia wondered if she was leaving some small part of herself in this little village… or if she was taking a part of it with her. She decided it had to be the latter.

The day was also blessed by the good omen of sunshine and blue sky; their path forward couldn’t have been clearer. Krey and Emilie walked in front on foot, with Livia taking her turn astride Danu. In the grass, beyond the beaten path, razorwolves, banditcats, and pexurs dotted the landscape, and only bothered them once or twice. That had reminded Livia, though, about the razorwolf pelts and pexur wool they had in Danu’s saddle bags. “Why didn’t we sell them at Acrevil?”

“We were lucky to get any kind of trade out of them at all,” Krey said. “A village that small has very delicate bookkeeping; we’ll have better luck making some actual decent money from them in Calastre.”

“Have you ever been to a big city before, Livia?” Emilie asked.

“Now that you mention it…” Livia’s voice trailed off. It’d only just occurred to her; she hadn’t. “Oh goddess… uh… perhaps you two should fill me in on what to expect.”

“Bigger buildings, more people, and less space,” Krey listed with a certain humour. “That’s the gist of it, anyway.”

Emilie asked her another question, her tone now laced with concern. “Do you have any experience negotiating large crowds of people?”

“No…” Livia mumbled. “I don’t.”

“Well, that won’t be as big a problem,” Krey postulated. “Being the travelling companions of a hierophant should make the crowds part themselves, at least mostly.”

Now it was Emilie’s voice that was partially curtailed. “I… I am sure we will be treated as anyone else would be. There is no reason for them to show us any reverence.”

“It’s not us they’ll be showing reverence,” Krey smiled. “It’s you.”

“Nonsense…” Emilie shook her head and pulled the hood of her robe up.

“Ah, yes!” Krey intoned. “That’s perfect! It adds a layer of… mystique!”

Livia couldn’t help but laugh.

Emilie groaned quietly, keeping her hood up and her head down.

That night, camp had been uneventful, and so had the following day. The three chatted idly and pressed ever onward through the calsan countryside. Their second night of camp on the plains, however, was not as peaceful. Luring and butchering pexurs was becoming old hat for them at this point, but Emilie never failed to make a satisfying meal of them, and more and more wool was being added to their loot pile. They retired for the night, Krey and Livia sleeping in their underwear, but Emilie, as usual, declined to undress further than taking off her shoes and socks. This would prove to be a very beneficial decision for her towards midnight, when their tents were knocked down around them, and their ears were pierced by a riot of shrill squawks.

“Ooooh shit!” Krey came flying into the open in just his Pivuseon yellow pants, holding his sword but not his shield. Livia and Emilie made a similar exit of their collapsed shelter, though Livia got her feet tangled in a mess of her own bundled clothing, tripping over and nearly losing what little dignity the fall had left her with; her off-white undergarments did not fail her. Krey couldn’t help but burst out with a laugh that quickly turned into a cry of fear; one of the two strixanths attacking the camp lunged at him during his schadenfreude. He parried its beak and ducked under its arm, still getting a face full of wing feathers as it passed over him.

“Emilie!” Livia cried. “Veridis!”

“What?! Oh!” Emilie managed to rein in her fluster just enough to realise what Livia meant. She recovered Veridis from the tent, drew it from its scabbard, and held it out in front of her as she started running at the other strixanth, letting out the most picayune battle cry ever. The weight of the sword proved more than she’d anticipated, and combined with the fact her feet were bare, she went careening forward, Veridis flying from her hands. However, with the momentum she’d built up, the blade had enough force to just about penetrate the strixanth’s torso. It fell out soon after, not going deep enough to lodge itself in, but it was enough to flabbergast the strixanth. That gave Livia the last bit of time she needed to collect herself and join the battle, sprinting past Emilie, retrieving Veridis, and thrusting it up into where she imagined the strixanth’s head connected to its body. It was hard to judge, being so dense with feathers, but when the beast let out a final shriek and collapsed backwards, Livia was satisfied she’d hit her mark.

Meanwhile, Krey was on the ropes, not used to fighting without his armour and shield— or nearly naked, for that matter. When he was battered down onto one knee, glistening with his own blood, the strixanth flapped off the ground… and began flexing its talons. Livia began running towards him, but Emilie knew it was too late for that; another strategy had to be employed. She raised her hands skyward, and after muttering a prayer to the Decakon, she threw them forward, imparting a wave of blue-green light unto Krey. When it entered him, he snapped his gaze toward Emilie, immediately realising what’d just happened. With a sudden swelling of vigour all throughout his body, at the same moment the strixanth dove at him feet-first, he sprang up with his sword held out, and plunged it hilt-deep in the monster’s chest. They tangled mid-air and crashed to the ground… but only Krey rose to his feet afterwards. As he slowly stood, he pulled one of the strixanth’s now-limp wings with him, using it to conceal his lower half. He coughed up words amid raspy breaths. “I don’t suppose either of you ladies has a spare pair of knickers? This bastard just tore mine off.” He flashed the girls a smile… and then fainted.