1. Farewells

"I think you are too generous to me Master Brukir. If it wasn't for my strength that suddenly overcame me... I'm not sure the rest of the tasks would go the way they did. But... it looks like you are a traveler yourself? Would you mind telling us where you're heading? Or maybe you are willing to join us? I would really want to learn about dwarven ways, when I'm seeing one before my eyes!" - Faramos did a gesture meant to invite the peculiar traveller to their little company.

"Brenda - you would have anything against it?"

"Thank you, Master Brukir for the valuable lessons. You will be remembered for giving us insight to what may come and giving us so much needed courage to press on! May the Powers of Nature aid you in your noble quests! But we must continue to find what we are looking for or to allow being found by the forces that are waiting for us. Farewell Master Brukir!"

With those words and newly gain energy Faramos and Brenda decided to continue their journey. Continuing their journey down the road.

As they really appreciated the encounter with dwarf on a mission, they somehow hoped that they will manage to move a little further from their home town this time before meeting another drawback.

Somehow they felt they have to be on the move... even though there was no sign of anyone chasing them.

As Faramos and Brenda continued their journey, they soon found the way forward blocked by a dense, thorny shrubbery. The tangled mass of branches and thorns seemed almost impenetrable. Brenda took the lead, her shield and sword working together to create a path through the thick underbrush.

"Careful, Brenda," Faramos called out, concern in his voice.

Brenda nodded, her focus unwavering as she hacked at the stubborn branches. Suddenly, a particularly sharp thorn caught her arm, tearing through her sleeve and leaving a deep scratch. She winced but continued, her determination unbroken.

"Are you alright?" Faramos asked, rushing to her side.

"I'm fine," Brenda replied through gritted teeth, glancing at the blood trickling from her arm. "It's just a scratch. Let's keep moving."

"Ok... but please be careful... we don't want to stay inside this bush... AHH... uh... You are right they don't treat newcomers lightly..." - Faramos said looking at the gash on his right thigh.

They were forcing their way through the unwelcome flora for some time in complete silence, mainly depending on their sheer determination... when Faramos decided to comment:
"I hope we are at least in the middle... I must say I'm almost wishing we would see Brukir jumping out from behind some tree, shouting that he is glad he has caught us in another of his tests..." - he tried to joke.

Springrise, 5th day.
Evening
Brenda and Faramos managed to make it through the shrubbery, though it took considerable time and effort. As they emerged on the other side, the sun was already dipping below the horizon, casting long shadows across the landscape. The air grew noticeably colder.

Brenda wrapped a cloth around her wounded arm. "We'll need to find a place to camp soon," she said, her breath visible in the cooling air. "It'll be dark before we know it."

"Good point Brenda. It's time for our first camp in the wilderness" - Faramos smiled weakly thinking this time it may be not as fun as it used to be when they were much younger and were training with Brenda's father how to make a camp -"'Just in case mist will be gone. And it certainly will! Some day..." - As Brandon, Brenda's father used to say as excuse for the training he was providing to his little army of two younglings.

"So get into this fur of yours and get some sleep. This wound has to heal. I will try to make a camp for us during that time. ONE thing good about those damn bushes is that they offer us some cover and protection - at least from one side."

Springrise, 5th day.
Evening
They hiked a bit further, but the encroaching darkness and dropping temperature made progress slow. Eventually, they found a small, sheltered grove that offered some protection from the wind. Faramos gathered some fallen branches and kindling, working quickly to start a fire. Brenda, knowing they needed to stay vigilant, chose a sturdy tree nearby and climbed up, settling in a high branch that allowed her a good vantage point.

"Brenda," Faramos called softly up to her, "I will get the fire going. Get some rest if you can."

Brenda nodded, her eyes scanning the surrounding area from her perch. "Alright, but wake me when you need to sleep. I'll keep an eye out from up here."


A couple of hours later, as the fire crackled to life, casting a warm glow in the encroaching darkness, Faramos sat down, feeling the weight of the day's exhaustion. He ate and checked his pack, noting with concern how his rations were dwindling. They would need to find more food soon.Either way, as the flames flickered and danced, he found himself reflecting on the day's trials and the challenges still ahead.Springrise, 5th day.
NightHours passed, and eventually, Faramos's eyes grew heavy. He stood and called up to Brenda. "Your turn to keep watch. I'll get some rest now."

Brenda climbed down from the tree with practiced ease and took her place by the fire. "Rest well, Faramos. I'll keep us safe through the night."

Faramos nodded gratefully and lay down, the warmth of the fire and the knowledge that Brenda was keeping watch allowing him to drift into a deep, much-needed sleep.

Springrise, 6th day.
Morning
The morning dawned gray and overcast, the air heavy with the promise of rain. Brenda, still alert from her night watch, gently roused Faramos. He blinked awake, stretching stiff muscles as he sat up. The fire had died down to embers, and the chill of the morning air was a sharp reminder of their vulnerability in the wild.

"Morning," Brenda said, her voice soft but steady. "The night was uneventful. We should get moving soon."As they packed up their belongings, the first drops of light rain began to fall. It was a gentle, intermittent drizzle, more of a nuisance than a hindrance. The sky would remain overcast for the whole day, with occasional bursts of sunlight breaking through the clouds and casting brief moments of warmth and light on the damp landscape.

Faramos smiled at Brenda after she roused him:
"Morning, Brenda!" - briskly answered Faramos, feeling that energy and eagerness to continue their journey is getting back within him.
"Yes, you are right... time to move on." - he looked at the weather - "A little rain didn't hurt anyone I guess. The most important thing is that the Mist still didn't show up. Even at the night. And let's hope it will stay that way."

Faramos gathered his things from the camp and asked:
"I see you are ready for some time now? Organized and tidy as always." - he smiled with a pinch of mockery and admiration - "So let's go." 

When they approached the roads crossing:
"Hmm... interesting... at least we can see more than one road and have some choice to do. But I just feel that we should keep with the current one and turn right."

Springrise, 6th day.
Morning
They set off, keeping close to the forest and walking upon the remnants of an ancient road, its weathered stones peeking through the undergrowth. The road was in a state of severe neglect, having been abandoned for hundreds of years. In some places, it disappeared entirely, swallowed by the encroaching forest and shifting earth. Faramos and Brenda had to navigate carefully, often losing the path only to find it again a mile or so later. The ground beneath the road had grown restless over the centuries, cracking and shifting as it slumbered through countless winters. The dwarves had once kept these roads in impeccable order, but since the Man Flood of 835 AS, they had fallen into disrepair. The influx of human settlers disrupted the maintenance and altered forever the landscape.

"These cracks are everywhere," Brenda noted, stepping over a particularly deep fissure. "The ground has been restless for a long time."

Faramos nodded, his eyes tracing the old stonework. "Yes, and without proper upkeep, it's only gotten worse. But you can still see the craftsmanship. The dwarven chieftain Gorder oversaw the construction of these roads in 250 AS. Stone singers raised slabs of stone from the earth, joining them together. These stones were meant to last."

In some areas, the road was still in use, though barely. Loose gravel filled in the larger cracks, a makeshift solution to keep it passable after the rains turned the surrounding ground to mud. It was a stark reminder of the road's former glory and the decay that had set in over the years.

With the ancient road crumbling beneath their feet, they moved on.

End of chapter