[Farael]

It was slow, hard work but at last the pulley system was set and the raft was brought to their shore of the river. They were all tired but it was just a few hours after mid-day and they knew they had to push on forward. There was still some of Sythric’s soup left and Osmod helped himself to some, before the fire was put out and the pots cleaned up. He then offered re-filling everyone’s water skins while he went down to the river to wash his cup. While he did so, the rest of the group packed up and loaded the raft.

The horses would be tied to the back of the raft and swim after them, so each rider needed to secure their own horse, as the animals would let no-one else do it. At last, the horses tied and their belongings loaded on the raft, each of the men grabbed a pole and started pushing towards the other shore. Their first efforts were not very coordinated and they seemed to be drifting downriver more than moving across. It did not take long until each of them realized they needed to push together if they ever wanted to make it across and so, guided by their own grunts, the men coordinated their efforts. At last, they were across.

Osmod felt the crossing of the river had taken hours, but as he untied his horse and lead him out of the water he realized it had not been more than a few minutes. His arms ached and he felt as if he had somehow hurt his chest, but it was not time for them to stop. The horses would need to be looked after before the winds chilled them to their bones, and then they had to keep on riding. “This was never meant to be a pleasure trip,” he thought “but it is only our second day riding and I don’t know if I can take another step before collapsing. Still, I must try. It’s my job if I am to be their leader”. Osmod looked at the other riders and wondered because of what insane whim of destiny the March-Warden had chosen him to give the letters to. They were all able bodied and smart. They all worked as hard as he did and perhaps most importantly, they didn’t seem to need a leader. In spite of his best judgement, he started feeling like a burden to the group. Yet because of luck, destiny or misfortune, he had received the letters and neither of the older men had seen the need to take his place as a leader. So, Osmod decided, he would need to lead by example, work the hardest to earn the position that had been given to him by chance.

It was not long before the horses were dry, their belongings loaded and the group set to go. Before leaving, Osmod walked back towards the raft and untied the rope that had helped them bring it across on the first place. It would not do for them to leave the way open for a group of orcs to follow their tracks. Not knowing what to do with the rope, he decided to heave it on the water and let the river decide its faith. To his great relief, the rope got caught on something at the other end and, rather than drifting down river, it just flapped on the current but stayed put. Whoever came next would still need to get the rope across somehow, but perhaps this small difficulty would deter a band of the servants of the enemy.

Most of them had never been across the river Those who had had done so long ago, so Osmod decided they would need someone to scout ahead, to warn them of any problems they may run into. He volunteered himself for the first shift, saying that he would warn them either in person or by leaving a sign should anything happen. ”I will meet with you if I get tired, and then someone else can take the scouting duties. Give me a few minutes to get ahead and then follow my tracks.”

They needed to go due south, according to Sythric, so Osmod checked the position of the sun and set his horse on a quick trot. He didn’t look back at the rest of them, just waved his arm vaguely and rode on.

Two hours had passed and he had seen no signs of people, whether friends or foes. He hoped the other riders would understand that he was not planning on going back to them until they stopped for the night. He was tired as was his horse, but he needed time to think.

Hours passed by and night encroached the day but the group had not yet seen Osmod again. The tracks of his horse’s hooves were easy to find and from time to time he had left one of his drawings to let them know he was alright. Yet night was drawing clear and soon they would need to camp. As the sun was setting they saw a lone man on foot, bringing the horse by the reins. When they drew near, they could see it was indeed Osmod. Both him and the horse appeared to be unharmed yet the man seemed absent, as he looked up to the riders on their horses. When inquired about what had happened he just muttered ”Not fifteen minutes from here there is a small hill. I rode atop that hill and looked ahead. I cannot explain to you what I saw; you will have to see it for yourselves.” Without another word Osmod mounted his horse again and showed them the way towards the hill.