As they passed through a clearing in the forest with an unobstructed view of the horizon, the trio of riders spotted a twin columns of blackish smoke rising skywards. Riding at point was a svelte figure wearing a dark-blue cloak, her face hidden underneath its cowl. Fastened to her back was a rucksack with a bumpy appearance and a near-empty quiver strapped alongside a yew longbow, the former tightly fastened to contain loot taken from their recent escapades into the wilderness and the latter a result of an overestimation on her part. The sheathed short swords attached to her belt bounced as her mount, a white-spotted black gelding, came to a steady stop. Tapping her fingers against her mount impatiently, she let out a sign of relief and removed her cowl as her companions approached. Her defined and pointed face, alongside large, mesmerizing green eyes and pointed ears, were explicit signs of her Elvish blood; yet her closely cropped hair and annoyed grimace contradicted the Fey beauty her race characteristically expressed.

"Well," she snapped. "That supposed to be the village you were talking about, Gyda?"

Atop a chestnut-brown pony a foot or so shorter than the Elf's mount, a stout and wide shouldered figure draped in stained green cloak removed their cowl to reveal a square-faced woman with a plain face and hair tied back into an ornately braided ponytail. The symbol of Pelor the Sun God was etched onto the decorative circular clip holding the braided design together, the sole piece of jewellery present on the Dwarf's person. She stretched, cracking her back and grunting at the weighted load she carried in her rucksack. Her mace bounced on the shield it was attached to onto her back as she looked back up at the smoke and shook her head.

"Yes Val, it was. Although now I'm less inclined to believe it's as peaceful as I once believed it to be. Palor bless the poor souls against the tribulations upon them."

"Are we not investigating?" Gyda and Val turned to see their final companion atop his gray stallion trotting towards them. Between the three he carried the largest load, a rucksack double the size of either women's bag, and a single mule led by a line of rope tied to its neck carrying several boxes, a barrel, and two filled burlap sacks all fastened tightly by more rope. Fastened to belts on his back beside the backpack were a peculiar variety of exotic weapons: spear-like construct attached to a rope he'd called a harpoon, a few bone-crafted machetes called iuaks, and a hand-axe that was more of a climbing implement than an actual weapon. Although he wore a dark-blue cloak like Val, he was considerably less comfortable in it, leaving the front of the cloak open and exposing studded leather armour and a lean, muscled physique riddled with scars. He pulled his cowl back, exposing a tired looking man with scars over his cheeks and chin alongside a small beard and long, unkempt and slightly sweaty hair fastened in a simple ponytail.

Gyda shook her head at the Frostfell Human still visibly struggling to acclimate to a warmer environment in the hottest season of the year. "We've no idea of what challenged lie before us, much less how well we'd put up a fight in our current debilitated state."

"Take her word for is Ossie. With the load we're carrying it's too big a risk."

"But my name is-"

"Sarcasm, Oslo." Gyda grunted as she dismounted her pony, removing her backpack and weapons before stretching again. Satisfied by the chorus of cracks, she motioned for her companions to join her. "Come, let's rest while we plan our next course of action."

"I do not understand, why do we not we just cut through the forest and bypass the village?"

"Because we don't want to attract attention to ourselves and this load we're carrying."

"Could we not just hasten ourselves past this threat that you and Val-"

"Just Gyda, I'm not afraid of anything remember!"

"-that you find so fearful?"

Gyda rubbed her furrowed brow. "You've overestimated our animals. Even when frightened they still won't be quick enough to avoid whatever's plaguing the village, which we'll have to assume to be raiders capable of giving chase to us. On horseback we could escape but with a mule? No, especially if the village is against Gnolls or a rather organized Goblinoid raiding party, we'll have to backtrack to the river and follow it's mouth to the nearest port city which would be...ah yes, Brisdol." Oslo and her had been debating on their next course of action as Val spit-roasted a fawn she'd hunted an hour earlier.

Each attempt to convince her barbarian accomplice had been in vain up until this point. Initially they'd been able to engage in a little small talk, which the dwarf had to admit her companion was quickly beginning to grab a hold of. Gradually they began lightly bickering over the next course of action, prompting Val to take off and acquire her aforementioned kill. As Val called them over, Oslo sighed and shrugged his shoulders.

"I am the foreigner here, my friend. To this 'Brisdol' we go." Gyda was relieved at her friend's compliance; she'd almost forgotten that the Everfrost Tribesman was by nature a warrior underneath his respectful, silent, and otherwise indifferent persona. Palor knows he's just beginning to grasp the concept of accumulating wealth as an investment than a means of instant gratification she thought. The dwarf made her way to her companions, thanking the Elf for the handing a particularly juicy looking haunch to her. She took small, manageable bites out of her meal, every so often looking up and shaking her head in amusement at her companions voracious consumption of the animal.

"Where'd you throw the animal's viscera, Val?"

Not looking up from her meal, Val extended her leg towards the undergrowth of the forest. Gyda grunted, noting the trail of blood leading out of the forest as she wiped her hands on a piece of cloth from within her rucksack. Satisfied that most of the animal grease was gone, she placed the remainders of her meal into the fire alongside the cloth. She chuckled at the macabre remains of the deer carcass thanks to her hungry companions as she strapped her shield to her arm and the mace to her belt.

"If I yell, assume I've been attacked."

Val and Oslo grunted in agreement, both still picking at the remaining pieces of venison and not bothering to look up.

Gyda sighed as she headed into the forest. "You'd think an Elf would understand what leaving fresh meat out might attract-"