On the road

Alex continues his breakfast with enthusiasm; he had worked up quite the appetite with his morning exercises and was taking full advantage of Master Gundren's largesse. However, even the natural ebullience of youth would be overly ballasted by too many vittles, so with some regret (and slipping a roll or three into his pouch Slight of Hand roll) he pushed away from the table.
As he heads to the exit, he sees the lovely bard from last night. He stops and performs his most courtly bow, doffing his hat with a flourish. Most gracious lady, I fear that my adoration of you must come to an end for now. Nay, my adoration will remain constant and fresh, but I will no longer be able to bask in the presence of your inspired pageantry, for our mission takes us towards dangers myriad and malevolent, and who knows if I shall ever be able to worship at the altar of your lute in the future.

Here, Alex is hit by a moment of inspiration. My lady, if I may, a small poem as a token of my appreciation. Alex takes a dramatic pose, and begins:

Her eyes the soul of flame;
Her horns like rubys struck.
Graceful fingers do proclaim;
Milil's glory with each pluck.
Hearing sublime Tallia declaim;
Brings Our Smiling Lady's own luck.

Alex finishes, bowing to Tallia. May your strings be ever true and your voice ever clear, my lady, and with that, Alex heads out the door.

Espying the remainder of the party, Alex heads to the one who puzzled him most, Decklan. Fine morning to you sir; forgive me, but I woke early and did not see you in our rooms. Is everything all right? Have you had cause to take umbrage with any of us? I would be loath to start our journey together if there were any unintended misunderstanding between us.

Raven was finished with his breakfast and followed Alex toward the door. He had intended to head immediately to the stables again to get the oxen ready, although he was confident with Gurn who really seemed to know what he was doing. Raven becomes distracted though when Tallia arrives, not by the minstrel herself, but by the flourish Alex bestows upon her. The farmer tries hard this time to follow Alex's words, but nope, got lost in the middle and the poem, he guessed it was about her and didn't figure much else out.

As Alex finished, Raven realizes he had a job he intended to do, a quick smile, nod, and "Good morning" to Tallia and Raven was headed to the stables to find that the oxen were ready. Stopping to have a quick chat with each of them to make sure they are ready, be approaches Gurn.

"Thanks for hitching them up. They like you, said you were good to them. We are all glad to have met you." Raven stopped talking and just stood there for a moment, seeming to consider what, if anything he was supposed to say next. Finally, "We'd best get going, maybe we'll see you again on the return trip."

Raven returned to the oxen, he cannot help but do a quick double check of the hitching, but finds everything exactly correct. Still it was his responsibility and father always insisted that a man take his own job seriously.

Idle Surge mentions, "I hope we don't encounter the ("Dwarven word for Orcs"). They are butchers. They take all that they can." and then he cuts off as he realizes what he was going to say further isn't for a lady to hear. "Lets hope our journey is safe." Appears that Surge doesn't like orcs.

Upon Tatiana's command, Ammos approaches the staff member on duty to hand on his sister's compliments and gift of silver.
After finishing he passes into the courtyard to briefly overhear some of the conversation between Raven and the stablehand, he takes note of Raven's personification of the oxen, and more curiously the way he describes that the oxen "said" that the stablehand was good to them. With some attempt at subtlety, Ammos will casually approach the oxen and address Raven.
"Wonderful beasts, hard-working and tireless. Unlike myself!" whilst laughing at his own joke, Ammos attempts to pat the oxen but, being quite unfamiliar, he just awkwardly taps them on the head.
"You seem to take great care of them, Raven." All the while, Ammos is trying to read Raven's reaction to and how he treats the oxen.

Ammos, It seems that the animals do indeed quite like Raven. They don't shy away from you but they seem to follow him with their eyes very closely.

With everyone assembled at the cart, you are ready to head out for the day. There's enough space for 2 people In the wagon besides the driver, one on the bench in the front with the driver and one place within the car itself.

Tatiana does not appear uncomfortable with Surge's use of the dwarvish term, either because of politeness or because she understands the word. "I suspect you have had encounters with many orcs," she says, panning her gaze across the wilderness beyond. "I hope we find time to learn from your experiences."

As the oxen-led wagon is brought into view, Tatiana turns to observe the stableboy. She appears to mentally disengage from Surge's conversation as the hem of her travel cloak falls across her shoulders to shield her gloved hands, and she watches the interactions around the supplies.

Having said goodbye to Gurn, Raven was just checking on the oxen when Ammos approached. He looked at the noble with his usually rarely blinking grey eyes. He had met few of the lizard or dragon folk, so Raven was uncertain which Ammos might be or if he might be something else entirely. The two nobles seemed related, but obviously that was its own question. One thing Raven was absolutely sure of is his mother would be quite cross if he blurted out any of those questions.
Raven was trying to remember the last time he spoke with a noble. Without his father present, that was probably never, as they rarely saw the landowners of his farm, usually only at end of season when taxes were due. He smiled at the joke and noticed the awkward way Ammos patted the Rudy.

Gently he reached out and laid his hand lightly on the ox's nose, not that Rudy needed to be calmed, he was extremely well trained, but just to be certain. There was a moment of pause before Raven responded, Ammos may have noticed the young man often seemed to gather his thoughts before speaking. "Yes, m'lord Grifstone, they are doing a lot of work for us, so they deserve to be tended well. That is why Master Gundren hired me." He watched Ammos for another moment, then continued "Watch the eyes, Rudy doesn't like things close to his eyes, but a good scratch behind the ears is always welcome."

Decklan rolls his eyes in response to Alex. "Been here waitin' on th'lot of you. Shoulda been on the road hours ago. Less flappin' yer gums, more one foot in front of th'other. Y'all take forever."

Once the group finally gets on the road, Decklan seems to lose the edginess he displayed at the inn.

Perhaps picking up on some of Ravens discomfort, Ammos will listen politely to his advice, "Gundren always had an eye for the talented, I can see that he wasn't mistaken with you. We are in your care, master Raven." He will hesitate for a moment before continuing, looking around for a beat to be sure that his sister doesn't overhear what he says next, "And please, just call me Ammos. I am a proud Grifstone, but I should like to be seen as equal in our company."

Ammos doesn't say out loud that he also worries that knowledge of his relation to a noble family may well increase his value to kidnappers who may overhear his being referred to as "Master Grifstone".

When Ammos looks around, Raven glances past him to where Ammos sister was busy else where. A smile crept across his face, "Of course Ammos."

Raven checked one last time with Rudy and Steve, since Ammos is close enough he actually hears Raven ask them and the oxen certainly appear to grunt or snort some kind of reply which Raven takes as confirmation.

With his staff in one hand and a light switch in his other, which he uses to tap the oxen lightly if they aren't paying attention, Raven starts the wagon rolling out of the stable and into the road where they can get started on the day's travel.

Walking Surge feels the need and gets his pan flute and plays some as we move on.

Alex steps out of the inn's courtyard and heads southeast down the trail which splits off from the Triboar towards Phandalin. He moves far enough ahead to scout and close enough to be within shouting range. Scanning the surroundings as a good forward observer should, fragments of melodies played by the fetching bard the night before course through his mind, and he finds himself whistling them—which perhaps a forward observer shouldn't. But the day is so fine he cannot be filled with buoyant enthusiasm.

Tatiana sits in what would be the driver's bench if they had a driver, reading a small book and occasionally jotting some notes with an ink pen. She pays little attention to the road unless someone calls out.

Raven keeps an eye on oxen and cringes a little at Surge's playing behind him, although Raven can't play any instrument at all.

With raven's gentle guidance, the ox lead the cart easily along the road. The rest of you walking or riding along. As promised by the clear morning the day continues to be sunny.