"Where did we come from? Over the mountains! Where are we going? Over the mountains!" Bardin and Kruber sang aloud as the group continued down the road.
"Where shall I kill him? Under the mountains. Where shall I leave him? Under the mountains." Kerillian sang mockingly but joined in nonetheless. "How much further are we from the next town? We've been walking for hours."
"What's the matter, elf? Feet tired?" Kruber asked as he continued walking.
"Tired? Me? I've walked more in my childhood than you've in your entire life," Kerillian retorted. "How are your feet, lumberfoot?"
"Well, my socks are still wet from cleaning out that greenskin blood, so soaked and miserable; thanks for asking," the mercenary replied.
"Better wet socks than ones with grobi spores on them," Bardin said, uneased from remembering such cases. "Anyways drengbarazi, from what I copied down off of that map, the next town should be just a few minutes away."
Sure enough, said town became visible on the horizon right as the group finished making their way up a hill.
"Finally," the wood elf said.
"Don't see why you're so relieved, Wutelgi," Bardin remarked. "It's barely even noon; we still got a lot of travel ahead of us."
"Perhaps, but at least we'll have better directions and maybe even horses," Kerillian replied. "If you don't eat them, that is."
"That time was a donkey, not a horse! And how was I supposed to know it wasn't for eating?" The dwarf asked incredulously. "Was there a sign that said 'don't eat this one, dawi'?"
"The sign was that it had a bridle and was hitched to a cart," the elf retorted.
"Speaking of horses and carts, wonder if we should get one," Kruber thought aloud. "You used to have a horse, right Kerillian? Think you can drive?"
"There's a difference between riding a horse and driving a cart, Kruber," the wood elf replied. "I can try my hand at it, but don't expect me to do as good a job as Olesya."
"Wonder whatever happened to her cart," Kruber continued. "Maybe we should paint our new one in its colors, for old memories' sake."
"You're getting ahead of yourself, Azumgi," Bardin commented. "We don't even know if they'll take your coin here."
"Huh. Yeah, we are in foreign territory after all," the mercenary said before realizing something about the dwarf's comment. "Wait, why'd you say that as if I'm going to be paying for everything?"
"Well, you see, engineering books are expensive as is," Bardin began. "Not to mention all the components, tools..."
"So you spent all yours?" the mercenary concluded. "Well, Kerillian, guess we'll have to pool ours."
"I don't have any," the wood elf said flatly.
"What?" the former sergeant said, surprised.
"What was I meant to do with those coins?" Kerillian asked; unlike most of her companions, most of the supplies she used quite literally grew on trees. "I gave them to Lohner; I figured he'd put them to better use."
It wasn't an unreasonable thing to do; after all, the former innkeeper managed their logistics and seemed unnaturally resourceful with what he could acquire for them. Still, that didn't help with their current situation.
"Brilliant, bloody brilliant," Kruber said frustratedly as he counted the silver shillings in his coin pouch. By Empire prices, there were certainly not enough to purchase a horse, much less a cart to go with it. They could possibly lease one, but with no intention or reason to return to this town later on, it would've just been stealing with a few extra steps. Of course, such behaviors were by no means above the former sergeant, with some notable pieces of his beloved equipment being acquired in just that way; but a country that wasn't on the verge of annihilation probably wasn't going to be as lenient on the matter, and did he really want to become an outlaw days after entering a new country? Again?
Other than that, hiring a driver was out of the question. With the exception of Olesya, the ones they previously relied on tended to either flee at the sight of danger, leaving them behind in the process, or found themselves at an ill-fated end due to said danger; it was doubtful that the trend would change here.
"Well, looks like we'll have to keep going the old-fashioned way," Kruber stated. "Should stock up on more rations, it's going to be a long walk."
As the group neared a collection of merchant stalls full of produce, they noticed a large crowd gathered in the middle of the square, a bard singing at its center.
"But he is Goblin Slayer! In no place does he abide. But sworn to wander, shall not have another by his side," the bard finished, ending his ballad. "For now, this is as far as the story goes for the frontier's hero: Goblin Slayer!"
"A slayer?" Kerillian repeated. "You hear that, dwarf? Seems that one of your crazed suicidal kin is wandering about here."
"That's odd; isn't the title supposed to be Orcslayer?" the former sergeant remarked, thinking of one of the many ballads of a legendary adventuring duo.
"Could be a translation issue," Bardin thought aloud. "But 'no other by his side' doesn't fit in with their tales, Azumgi."
"Well, it's still the best lead we got, I guess," Kruber stated. "If this slayer's got ballads about him, he's been here longer than we have. Maybe he'll know more."
The trio approached the bard just as another group did the same.
"The ad-" a cloaked figure began to ask before being abruptly cut off.
"Oi, bard! What else do you know about that 'Goblin Slayer' you were singing about?" Kruber asked.
"Well, Long-Ears, seems you didn't plan this through too well," Dwarf Shaman remarked. "A small patch on the map is still a lot of space to cover."
"Have some patience, dwarf," High Elf Archer responded. "We just need to narrow it down until we find him."
"That does seem to be the best course of action, but how would we accomplish such a task?" Lizard Priest questioned.
It was then that the elf began to hear a familiar ballad.
"But he is Goblin Slayer! In no place does he abide. But sworn to wander, shall not have another by his side. For now, this is as far as the story goes for the frontier's hero: Goblin Slayer!" the bard finished.
"Simple, that bard also knows the ballad," the elf began, pointing at the man in question. "Since this place is much closer to where Orcbolg should be, he should have a better idea about where he actually is; we just need to keep asking until we find him."
"Just make sure you use his proper name when you ask," Dwarf Shaman added. "The humans won't be familiar with your elven silly talk. 'Orcbolg', nonsense! It's Beard-Cutter, I tell you!"
"Why don't we see about that," the archer said as she made her way to the bard to ask her question.
"The ad-" she began but was suddenly cut off when a man stepped in the way.
"Oi, bard! What else do you know about that 'Goblin Slayer' you were singing about?" the man questioned.
"Hey! You cut me off!" High Elf Archer complained.
As the man turned to face her, the archer took note of his appearance. He was impressively large, easily matching the height of Lizard Priest. His apparel, though messy and battle-scarred, held a dignified look to it. His striking visage gave off a feeling of valiance, but its ruggedness reflected a sense of humility. In many ways, he was the ideal image of a veteran adventurer; if she hadn't already decided on Orcbolg as her desired party addition, she'd probably consider him for the spot as their human representative. His gaze would've seemed intimidating to her if it wasn't for his friendly expression.
"Oh, sorry about that; didn't see you there," the man said, stepping aside.
"It's fine," High Elf Archer said, accepting the apology before turning to the bard. "So, th-"
"Hold on, Azumgi!" A rough voice interrupted as a helmeted, short figure butted in. "Don't be so quick to lay down; you've done nothing wrong. Ever heard of 'first come, first serve'?"
"We were the ones here first," High Elf Archer argued.
"Says who?" the helmeted dwarf argued back. "Got a referee, wazzok?"
"Alright, look, we'll ask our questions quickly, then leave," the man suggested with a sigh, holding up his hands in a gesture of appeasement. "No point in arguing here; dwarfs can be real stubborn."
"Surely there is no reason for us to fight here," Lizard Priest added diplomatically. "Let us wait for our turn."
"I'm not just going to let a stinking bearded barrel walk over me!" the archer rebuked as she let down her hood.
"Boga! You could dice an onion with those!" the helmeted dwarf exclaimed, referring to the elf's ears.
"Oh bloody- no, I'm not getting involved here," the man said, shaking his head. "Only one nagging elf per Kruber, that's my policy."
"Only one?" A feminine voice joined in as a masked, pointed-eared figure came forward; her presence seemed to fill the air with the comforting scent of fresh forest foliage, the smell of home for High Elf Archer. "You say that as if I don't have to deal with four of you lumberfoots on a regular basis."
"Hear that Long-Ears? You've managed to scare away the human," Dwarf Shaman said tauntingly. "Maybe we should let someone else do the talking next time; make sure you don't scare away Beard-Cutter as well."
"Beard-Cutter!?" the helmeted dwarf yelled out in shock.
"Alright mayflies, hush down," the masked elf announced before turning to address High Elf Archer. "I apologize for the behavior of my companions; surely you can understand how childish their kind can be."
"I couldn't agree more," the archer said to her masked kindred, side-eying the dwarves. "You'd think they'd show more respect to their elders."
"Absolutely," the masked elf affirmed. "Even an adolescent like you has likely lived well beyond their lifetime already."
The comment rubbed High Elf Archer the wrong way; sure, she was young for an elf, but her senior didn't have to tease her about it.
"Hey, don't speak to me like I'm a kid," the archer complained. "Two thousand years isn't that much, but I know my way around."
The masked elf gave her a confused look; her stare showed High Elf Archer a clear view of her pitch-black eyes. To say it was unnerving would've been an understatement. It was probably some magical illusion to make her seem more intimidating and mysterious.
"I doubt you're millennia old," the masked elf responded. "And you are, by all means, a child; not a mayfly child, but still a child."
The masked elf's comment only irritated High Elf Archer even further.
"I am not a child!" The archer yelled as an argument broke out between the two.
"Well, the elves are bickering with each other, as always," Bardin commented, observing the arguing pair.
"They could take a lesson on companionship from our kind," the ponytailed dwarf stated as he idly stroked his beard. "Maybe it's their cold necks that make them so irritable; they have a hard time growing beards, after all. By the way, yours is quite impressive, I must say."
"You flatter me, dawi," Bardin responded. "With time, you'll grow a decently sized one as well."
That comment appeared to cause the ponytailed dwarf's expression to sour.
"I'll have you know that mine is 'decently' sized as is," the ponytailed dwarf corrected calmly.
"Of course it is," Bardin began. "For a beardling."
"What did you call me!?" the ponytailed dwarf questioned, feeling insulted, as another argument erupted.
With all of their companions quarreling, Markus and Lizard Priest looked at each other intensely. The two held a standoff of glares for a few seconds before one of them broke the silence.
"You know, I heard you lizardmen were supposed to tower over us, but it seems we're about the same size," Markus commented.
"I have been described as such by many," Lizard Priest stated. "From what I've seen, you too appear to be much larger than most humans."
"Aye, I guess you're right on that," the mercenary thought aloud, remembering how he was at least a head taller than most of his fellow soldiers during his service. "Didn't know you lizardmen wore clothes. Tales I've heard said the most you lot had was jewelry."
"Some of my kind do prefer minimal attire; it varies between our cultures," Lizard Priest responded. "I must say, your attire is rather distinct itself."
"Fair enough," the former sergeant agreed, nodding along. "So, what question were you going to ask that bard anyways?"
"We wished to know more information about the 'Goblin Slayer'," Lizard Priest replied. "We are seeking his assistance."
"Well I'll be, that's just about what we're trying to do," Kruber responded before looking at the bickering group members. "Does that happen on your side often as well?" the mercenary asked, pointing a thumb in their direction.
"All of the time, unfortunately," Lizard Priest answered.
"We should get them to stop," Kruber suggested.
"Indeed," Lizard Priest agreed.
"Oi!"
*ROAR!*
Immediately, the four once-arguing members went silent and backed away from each other, though they still appeared agitated.
"Fine, let's just ask our question and-" High Elf Archer began, before realizing that the bard had disappeared.
"Well, looks like you really did scare off a human, Long-Ears," Dwarf Shaman remarked, finding his earlier comment more amusing now. "We really shouldn't let you handle any more speaking matters."
"You dwarves were arguing much louder!" the archer retorted.
"Don't worry about it," Kruber said, kneeling down. "I can track 'em."
"Are you sure about that, Azumgi?" Bardin asked. "I'd think tracking a manling is different from a beast."
"Who knows, maybe he's picked up a scent," Kerillian remarked sarcastically.
"Nope," the mercenary responded, picking up an object from the ground and holding it out for the others to see. "Bugger had a hole in his pocket."
Looking at his side revealed a trail of bronze coins leading down the street.
"Thank Taal people appreciate a good story."
After tracking down and returning his dropped coins, the bard was grateful enough to tolerate the two groups' questions. From it, they were able to determine the town that 'Goblin Slayer' operated in, which was only a few days away by foot.
The group from Ubersreik had also gleaned other pieces of information from their questioning.
"Seems that 'Goblin Slayer' is a human," Kruber stated. "For some reason, that sounds familiar."
"You're probably still thinking about the Saga of Gurnisson," Bardin remarked. "This manling's stories aren't as impressive, but he sounds proper dawri if you ask me."
"I honestly wish I could share your fascination with mayfly fairy tales," Kerillian remarked.
"Shut it, elf," Bardin scolded. "Jaeger's accounts are all real and that's final!"
"As real as your Cousin Okri," the wood elf muttered.
"Exactly," Bardin responded.
"No, it's not them," Kruber said, still pondering before remembering a lecture from one of his companions. "Heldenhammer, that's it."
"Heldenhammer?" Kerillian repeated questioningly. "What does that long-dead barbarian have to do with this 'Goblin Slayer'?"
"Heldenhammer means 'Hammer of the Goblins', Wutelgi; Sigmar took it after slaying a horde of the wazzoks at Black Fire Pass," Bardin answered, pondering over the title as well now. "Another manling holding a similar title; it might be Grimgi's doing. Maybe it's a hint for us to find him."
"I admit, it sounds convoluted enough to fit One-eye's schemes," the elf relented with a sigh. "But if that's the case, it sounds like Sienna's still missing. There was no mention of her in those ballads."
"Something else isn't adding up," Kruber spoke. "We were all teleported at the same time and only been here a few days; how would he already have ballads sung about him?"
"Remember the tale of Karag Dum, Azumgi," Bardin answered, referencing another tale of a legendary adventuring duo. "Time gets warped when chaos is involved."
"What if something happened to Sienna in that time?" Kerillian asked, notably concerned; it wasn't a secret that chaos influence had rather horrible effects on wizards.
"We'll worry about that when we get there," Markus stated, knowing the importance of keeping morale up.
The sergeant walked up to the other group of adventurers who were about to leave.
"Oi," Kruber called out, causing them to turn and face him. "Seems we need to head the same way; roads don't seem all that safe from what I've seen. Mind if we join up?"
"That's-" High Elf Archer began, before being cut off.
"A wonderful idea," Lizard Priest answered before his companions had the chance to refuse. "I believe we all started on the wrong foot; perhaps this experience will help soothe matters."
"Sounds good to me," the mercenary stated.
Around the two more amicable figures, the other members of both groups looked at each other and their acting leaders with seeming frustration.
The six group members sat around a fire; it had been hours since they departed from the town and they had set up camp for the night.
Their time together up to now had been mostly silent, with only the occasional grumble breaking it.
"Well, looks like things won't start without a push," the mercenary remarked. "Name's Kruber, Markus Kruber."
"Wh-what!?" High Elf Archer bore a look of surprise and seemed to blush a bit.
"Rather bold of you to introduce yourself like that," Dwarf Shaman commented.
"Did I say something strange?" the former sergeant asked, confused by the reaction.
"I presume you are not from these lands?" the lizardman inquired. "It is a custom here to adopt a title for reference rather than using one's name; with the exception of the most intimate of relations."
"Huh, I see," the mercenary thought aloud; as the saying went, 'When in Tilea, do as Tileans do.'
Kruber thought about what to choose regarding his title. His current occupation was a good basis, and he figured he deserved a promotion from the rank of 'sergeant'.
"I guess I'm a Mercenary Captain," he answered.
"I am Lizard Priest," the lizardman responded. "It is a pleasure to meet you."
Other than Lizard Priest and Kruber, no one appeared to be keen on interacting with each other.
"Alright, let's try an old trick to start off," the mercenary stated. "Anyone here know about 'stone soup'?"
"Soup made from stones?" High Elf Archer said questioningly. "That can't be real, can it? It sounds horrible."
"Durazbrog tends to go down easier with soup," Bardin stated, thinking about the rock bread he kept as part of his long-lasting emergency provisions. "I think I have enough for us."
"Trust me when I say this; we don't want any," Kerillian stated, remembering the kinds of 'food' he kept. She still didn't know how the dwarf could eat candles, and that wasn't even mentioning the troll meat.
"Well, it's not an actual thing; it's more like an idea, from this old Ostland story," Kruber explained as he dug around his pack. "Point of it is, each of us shares something we've got for our meal."
As the captain finished speaking, he held up what appeared to be a thick, circular parcel. Unwrapping it revealed a mostly intact red cheese wheel; it was only a small wedge gap away from being full.
"Ussingen Red, lovely thing," Kruber said as he cut off a few wedges with his knife before offering them to the rest of the party.
"Oh-ho, what is this?" Lizard priest said as he curiously eyed the wedge in his hand.
"Cheese, right?" High Elf Archer asked. "I've never seen one so red before."
"Don't know what it is, Scaly?" Dwarf Shaman asked. "They make it by fermenting milk."
"Lots of ways to make it as well," Bardin added. "I happen to have some in my sack."
"Do not take it out," Kerillian said sternly, remembering the old socks the ranger used as cheesecloth. The denial of his offer caused the dwarf to mutter disgruntledly.
"I see; it is a farm product," Lizard Priest said, continuing to examine the wedge. "No wonder I am unfamiliar with it. My people protect animals, but we do not raise them."
"We've got a fire, let's roast it!" the shaman suggested as he offered skewering sticks to the rest of the party.
The red cheese melted as it was held over the fire, filling the air with its fragrant aroma.
Lizard Priest observed as each of the other members bit into their piece of cheese, before taking a bite into his own.
"Oh! Nectar!" Lizard Priest shouted as the savory flavor burst in his mouth. "Sweet nectar! I cannot believe I was unaware of such a thing until now!"
"It tastes savory, but also sweet and nutty," High Elf Archer commented, surprised that something so different reminded her of her home's foods.
"I have to say Azumgi, this is almost as good as the goat cheeses Cousin Okri used to make," Bardin added.
"It has... a beautiful flavor," Kerillian said solemnly, remembering how she had once dismissed its origin town as nothing but a backwater.
"Well, it'd only be proper to have something to pair this cheese with," Dwarf Shaman said as he placed a ceramic pot in front of him. "I'll be sharing this then, dwarven fire wine!"
"Wine?" Bardin said incredulously. Wine was more of an elven or human beverage, proper dwarfs preferred beers and ales.
"Fire wine?" High Elf Archer repeated questioningly.
"Alright, hand it over here, let's see what we're working with," Kruber said as he reached out his hand to take the dipper full of alcohol.
As the captain sampled the wine, he immediately registered the rich flavor of spices that seemed to equal the strong taste of alcohol. It wasn't the strongest he'd ever had, but it was certainly one he'd remember fondly.
"Not bad; has a nice taste," Kruber said as he finished the drink and handed it back to Dwarf Shaman.
"You downed it all without so much as a peep?" Dwarf Shaman asked incredulously. "Ha! We've got a real drinker here!"
"Or maybe there's just not much to it," Bardin said, still skeptical about the wine's potency. "Give it here, let a dawi have a swig."
Dwarf Shaman obliged, allowing the ranger to sample from the refilled dipper.
"Hm. Might be the first 'wine' I'd consider stocking," Bardin said approvingly as he finished drinking the dipper's contents, before handing it back to the other dwarf.
"Is it true what you said about it pairing well with this 'cheese'?" Lizard Priest asked enthusiastically, as he sampled the wine before taking another bite of cheese. "Ahah! It is!"
"So, is it good?" High Elf Archer asked, curiously eyeing the pot of wine.
"You're welcome to try it, Long Ears. Surely you've had wine before," the shaman said as he offered a sample to the archer. "Or have you?"
"Trust me when I tell you this, child," Kerillian began with a warning tone, having noted both Bardin and Kruber's reaction to the beverage. "You do not want to sample that."
"Don't patronize me!" the archer complained as she took the dipper and began moving it to her lips. "Wine's just old grape juice and I told you already, I'm not a child; of course I can handle it!"
It only took a single sip before the archer's face immediately went red and she fell backward. The dipper would've fallen to the ground as well, had the other elf not caught it.
"You should have listened," Kerillian stated as she took a few sips from under her mask before returning the dipper. "This brew is on the stronger side."
"I've never seen an elf able to handle a single sip," the shaman said, impressed even though the dipper was still more than half full.
"Well, it wouldn't be right of me now to not offer a drink from my own stock," Bardin said as he withdrew a small cask and shot cups from his sack. "Have a taste of Bugman's."
"I didn't know we had any of that left," Kruber said surprised as he downed a small cup of the ale; it was just as great as he had remembered it.
"Well, I'll be, this brew's a whole world apart from what I've had before," Dwarf Shaman stated as he drank the ale.
"This pairs well with 'cheese' too!" Lizard Priest said joyously as he did the same.
"I think I'll pass this time; I don't feel too good," High Elf Archer said, clearly uneasy from her sip of the fire wine.
"You're intoxicated," Kerillian said as she pulled out a strange-looking fruit and cut off pieces of it with a knife. "Here, having something to eat should help."
"Hey, I've seen those before," Kruber commented. "You were growing them back at the keep, what're they called?"
"Aoilym," Kerillian answered. "It's a fruit that grows from the trees of my home."
Ever since being rededicated to the Weave, the elf had gained a stronger connection to the ancient forests; she had only recently found that part of her home seemed to follow her as well, with the fruit suddenly growing from the trees in the training yard of Taal's Horn Keep.
"Wonder how it compares to our fruits," Kruber said as he held out an open hand, allowing the waystalker to toss a chunk of the fruit to him.
The fruit's scent was bitter, but also rich; biting into it, its flavor was deliciously sweet. After a few moments, the mercenary felt refreshed, the haziness from the alcohol he'd sampled seemingly fading a bit.
"Bugger, I think I might just wake up without a hangover in the morning," Kruber commented.
"But where's the fun in that?" Bardin asked.
"Aye," Dwarf Shaman agreed. "Though, it is a tasty fruit."
"It is very refreshing," Lizard Priest commented, looking at his now bare skewer. "I wonder how it would've tasted with the 'cheese'."
"I could cut you another slice," Kruber offered.
"You would truly share more of that treasure!?" Lizard Priest asked excitedly.
"Just make sure to savor it," Kruber said as he cut off another wedge. By now the wheel had turned into a semi-circle, "This one's probably the last of its kind here."
"Did something happen to its makers?" Lizard Priest asked, concerned.
"Would you believe me if I said a bunch of rats destroyed the city it came from?" the mercenary asked as he handed the wedge over.
"Do rats have some kind of an attraction to 'cheese'?" Lizard Priest questioned, curiously, skewering the wedge on his stick.
"Now that you mention it, yeah, I guess they do," Kruber answered.
"Then they must all be exterminated!" Lizard Priest shouted with conviction as he began roasting the wedge.
The scene was, to say the least, highly amusing to the group from Ubersreik.
"I think I'm feeling a bit better now. Thanks for the fruit," High Elf Archer said appreciatively to the waystalker, as she took out a bundle wrapped with leaves. Unwrapping the bundle revealed what appeared to be biscuits. "This is an elf traveling ration. We're not supposed to share with outsiders, but this time seems special."
"Looks a bit like hardtack," Kruber commented as he took one of the biscuits; taking a bite revealed the opposite of his assumptions. The biscuit had a sweet taste and a soft center. "A lot better than it, though."
"I confess, this is my first time seeing such a thing," Kerillian stated, but sampling the biscuit nonetheless. "It tastes fine."
"Really?" the archer asked, surprised. "Well, I guess it could be a cultural difference; you said you weren't from here, right?"
"Oh my, I have gotten rather carried away; I nearly forgot to offer a share from my rations," Lizard Priest said, taking out a chunk of meat and cutting a few portions from it. "This is the meat of a swamp creature."
"Finally, a proper meal," Bardin said enthusiastically. "I can smell those spices from here."
"I can already tell it'll be delicious," Dwarf Shaman added.
As Kruber watched the scene before him, he couldn't help but smile; just a few hours ago, most of the group wanted nothing to do with each other, but now they were all happy to break bread. It reminded him of when he was first put in charge of his regiment back in Ostland; they were all grumbling at first, thinking he'd be another hardass for them to suffer under, but they warmed up quickly; some even ended up giving their lives to save his.
The smile on the former sergeant's face turned into a sad one as he thought about how his fellow soldiers would've turned out if they hadn't been on the field that day; perhaps they would've had more moments like this with each other.
'Let's hope for better times ahead,' Kruber thought to himself, as the group continued feasting and conversing into the night.