[piosenniel]

***** DALE - Jarl *****

Jarl and Gramil let their tired mounts graze freely while they ate some dried fruit and shared the last skin of water. When they had done, they drove the oliphaunts toward the River Harnen and let them cool themselves off. Gramil walked upstream and refilled their skins with fresh water.

Jarl looked up, at the position of the sun. It had been about two hours since Garlin and Ethar had gone on ahead to investigate the birds. He sighed, and rubbed his tail bone. 'I'm getting too old for travel by oliphaunt.' he muttered to himself.

Gramil heard him and laughed out loud. 'Careful, Jarl! You'll be wanting to retire soon!'

Jarl gave him a considering look. 'Not a bad idea, actually, my friend. You know, we have two able bodied, and young, assistants. I have been thinking - with our pooled contacts and store of knowledge between us, we should consider forming a trading company of our own. We could have quite a formidable north/south consortium were we to do this. Our Kings would be happy - their coffers would increase greatly from income from the increased trade. And once we got the framework for it up and running smoothly, we would be free to pursue other interests at our leisure.'

Gramil looked at the Daleman appraisingly. 'That is something to consider.' he said. He grinned then and clapped Jarl on the back. 'Of course, as heads of the company there would be no call for us to be traipsing about on oliphaunts, would there?'

Jarl chuckled, brushing the dust of the trip from his shirt. 'No, my friend. We would be obliged to travel in style and comfort. Oliphaunts would be strictly for the assistants!' He looked northward. 'Speaking of them, perhaps we should mount up and see if we can find them.'

************************************************** *************

Five further days of travel brought them to the vale where the River Poros flowed through on its way down from the Shadow Mountains. The two younger men had continued their way north and were always about a day ahead of Gramil and Jarl. The two older men easily followed the trail of the other two oliphaunts, and at their camps which they came to, there was always a stick or rock to the north of the cooking fire site marked with the runes for 'E' and 'G', and the rune indicating 'North'.

It was at the last camp, near the Poros, where the rock message was marked with the rune for 'East', that Jarl noted Gramil had begun to look worried. 'They have turned toward Nurn.' he said. 'They should have waited for me. They do not know the customs of that new country, and the penalties for infractions can be rather harsh.'

'Harsh?' asked Jarl, now becoming increasingly concerned. Gramil pushed his beast onward. 'That was the nice word for it.' he called over his shoulder. 'In other regions they might be called "fatal".'

[ October 17, 2002: Message edited by: piosenniel ]