Chapter 1: Meeting the Cuckold Moose

The goliath and revenant exit the tavern, the others still loiter at the bar. It was dark outside, however the moon provides a bright and elegant light. Neither have trouble seeing the wagon stationed a few meters away, though Malethor has no issues in the dark. The streets were quiet and any patrons from the tavern were nowhere to be seen, minus one man smoking up against the tavern's wall.

The tavern faces an open road that leads west to Neverwinter. There are no established roads the go any other direction.

The group was loaded in the cart with Gellbran guiding the horses. The roads are dark, yet everything shines from the cool silver moon. The few who have dark vision keep watch without any strain on their eyes. Neverwinter was only a short ride away. No more than four hours to the front gates where the caravan was ambushed.

The wagon's horses trotted along the dirt path, making Gellbran's job quite easy. The path seemed quiet and nothing seemed out of place. It was only a few hours ago the half-orc traveled this path, and the others have been on this road before. Xhava's whistling filled any silence in conversation between the group. The natural tune flowed through the night air, harmonizing with the crickets and the occasional bird.

The Goliath's torch radiated a light just off the set path, it lit just enough to see a potential attacker coming from the brush. As the wagon hopped over a fair sized stoned, it's wheels clunked. By an old fallen tree, the wagon's sounds frightened a Barn owl with tattered feathers as it hunted a small mouse. It flapped its wings hard when taking off from it's missed late night snack.

The revenant seemed to match the moons sliver glow, his deathly skin was as mysterious as the moon itself. He noticed nothing abnormal to his side of the wagon.

Xhava's chatter seemed to make the deep of night sail smoothly. Though noisy, her carelessness brought a calm to the group. The Goliath's instinctive sniffs invited a steamy, relaxed wind from the large horses leading... or it may have been from Gellbran, Skeinkaldr was unsure. The horses continued trotting regardless as the trail became a soft painted canvas of blurring green and blue. Ebri's worries may settle with the almost meditative journey thus far.

The group has been traveling for less than four hours, and all is still quiet. The trail led straight for another half kilometre then would fade up a hill. Some of the group recognized this section of trail, knowing Neverwinter was not much further.

The group reached the top of the hill and were no more than a few hundred meters away from Neverwinter's north gate. The hill is high enough to overlook the walls into the developed city, only several houses or buildings were lit with candle light.

The group haven't seen any noticeable tracks from the thugs, however their potential directions can be predictable. This is the gate Delrick mentioned his caravan was ambushed at. The scene is all clear now and the guards don't seem to be on high alert. Everyone except Xhava takes notice of the two guards stationed in front of the large reinforced wooden gates. The guards haven't yet spotted the wagon, but any closer and their hypnotic gaze would break. Working the night shift is tough, it changes a man.

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